


Abnormalities in Love

by GeeLiz_98



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: 80s AU, Angst, HIV/AIDS, M/M, Other, Period-Typical Homophobia, Smut, not a main feature of the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23187538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeLiz_98/pseuds/GeeLiz_98
Summary: Being a group of mismatched immigrants in a tiny London attic was madness at the best of times...and it was only mostly Baekhyun's doing. But introduce a new (shy, tall, handsome, dazzling...ahem) member to the group and Baekhyun's world just about turned upside down.orChanbaek in the 80s.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 11
Kudos: 30





	1. Love is a Many Gendered Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The playlist for this fic:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0G56MSlnwUTMzb4e537IKt?si=fNUaAHa1SRqgvENZSxlChw

_Thud_.

There it went again. As if it were a lump of stone, his head collided full-on with the headboard. Thank fuck it was stuffed or he would have bled out by that point.

_Thud._

Baekhyun rolled his eyes in irritation.

“Oh, _baby,_ ” hot, damp breath landed on his face and made him wince, “am I really making you that _horny?”_

Shit. The poor sod thought he was making Baekhyun’s eyes roll into the back of his head with pleasure. Baekhyun fucking wished.

“ _Oh-ho! Yeah, baby! Hnnnhg! Ahhh! Fuck,”_ add a wince for good measure and he could have this shit over with.

The sweaty body on top of him started to rut into him as if he were some kind of fleshless blow-up doll. Baekhyun wondered why he bothered to drag himself to Soho on a Tuesday night just to have some arse _jack off_ inside of him.

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

Baekhyun wondered whether he should invest in a new headboard.

Sure, this one was nice and all – pink and peach florals were a bit 1970s, mind. Except he couldn’t help but notice the plumes of dust puffing out of the scratchy clumps of fabric every time his aching scalp rammed into the statement furniture piece.

“Oh, fuck,” he hissed for effect, “baby, don’t stop!”

He wanted to get the real show on the road and kick this man out before he got a concussion. He couldn’t recall a time he had been less turned on in his life.

Sure, this guy left a lot to be desired but there was more to it than that.

He was attractive enough. Nicely toned with a cute moustache. It did scratch Baekhyun’s own bare face when they made out earlier in the night but he would have been hard-pressed to find a guy without one, unfortunately.

_Thanks a lot, Tom Selleck._

The day had been pretty long and shitty and Baekhyun _thought a_ quick shag would sort that right out.

He was wrong.

“Oooooh, boy!” _Is sweat dripping from his moustache?_ “I’m really going to cum!” The man looked far to gleeful. _Alright for some._

“Oh! Me too!”

He was not.

See, when Baekhyun had been told to go to the jobcentre every day of the sodding week, he honestly thought he’d have better luck than he was currently having.

After 6 months on the dole, begging his housemates for scraps of food and the odd cigarette, he realised just how wrong he had been.

From up above, the most unattractive grunt he had ever heard ripped through his ears and he breathed a sigh of relief.

_God, this guy has an ugly cum face._

“Ahhh, I just blew my load! You?”

_Whisper sweet nothings into my ear, why don’t you?_

“Err, yeah. Sure!”

He glanced down towards his bare - completely clean - midriff where his dick was beginning to replicate a block of old tofu from the displeasure if it all.

_Men are so fucking stupid._

Without so much as a second’s thought, the man pecked Baekhyun on the cheek and jumped from the bed.

Baekhyun had lost track of the time but he sure as hell knew he was far too awake given the late hour. Maybe he could spend an hour or two flicking through job adverts in the newspapers he grabbed from the off-licence that morning.

Maybe he could have a wank.

The man was still butt naked – apart from a pendant necklace – fishing around on the ground for his trousers.

_Was his arse that flat an hour ago?!_

Maybe he could apply for community college…sure, he didn’t have a qualification to his name (O-levels were not as interesting as smoking fags under the bus shelter with the older men who hung around the local park looking for ‘love’) but he could always try?

“Okay, I’m heading off,” the man announced with a shit-eating grin, “I’ve got work in the morning.”

_Just fuck right off!_

“Nice one! See you around?”

The man offered him a sly grin before prowling over to him like a predator after his prey.

“I sure hope so,” he leaned over the bed, arms at Baekhyun’s sides, torso parallel with Baekhyun’s own, “best shag of my life!”

Baekhyun didn’t really know what to make of that statement.

Maybe he could be a prostitute. He had always argued that he was too desperate for an emotional connection to sleep with people for money, though.

“I hope to meet you again,” the man placed a delicate kiss on Baekhyun’s right cheek, making him shiver against his will from the display of affection.

Maybe he could just be a housewife.

Baekhyun offered a genuine smile to the nameless man, ready to forgive him for being a horrific lay.

“Thank you,” the man whispered, “thank you, Beckett.”  
  


_Wait…who!?_

Then the man was off. Baekhyun was left leaning on his forearms, hovering his naked torso in the air, frozen in amused annoyance.

_Of-fucking-course the guy doesn’t know the name of the best shag of his life._

Baekhyun stared at the empty doorway to his tiny box room in disbelief before throwing his body onto the bed.

_Thud._

Fuck buying a new headboard. He was going to burn the whole bed.

The kitchen light was still dimly lit when Baekhyun finally emerged from his room.

It wasn’t unusual for someone else living in the flat to be awake at such a late hour; he did live with five other people, after all, each with their own lives to live. But it was unusual given the freezing temperature.

Clearly, the boiler had been cut out again leaving the flat’s inhabitants freezing for the second winter running. Baekhyun wished he had worn something underneath his silk, floral dressing gown before stepping outside the confines of his room.

“Is that you, Baek?” A quiet voice called from the rickety four-seater table tucked up against the kitchen wall.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Baekhyun spotted one of his flatmates, Kyungsoo, sitting in the seat trapped between the table and the wall, buried in papers and receipts, looking as though he hadn’t slept in months.

“Yeah, it’s only me,” Baekhyun confirmed as he made his way over to a friend with a sympathetic smile.

He ran a gentle hand through his friend’s scruffy mop of hair and placed a gentle peck where the dark brown strands parted to reveal his scalp. He looked as though he had already attempted to sleep but to no avail.

“We’re done for,” he said with a defeated sigh, “you know that, Baek.”

He lifted his tired eyes to look into Baekhyun’s own and the latter latched onto Kyungoo’s freezing hands and squeezed them so tightly it was sure to hurt just a little.

See, Kyungsoo was the main organiser of a local charity which assisted gay men with their medical needs during the explosion of the AIDs crisis in London.

He housed the men who had been kicked out of their homes ruthlessly and needed a place to live out their last days in peace. He maintained the dilapidated community centre on the outskirts of China Town that these men called their home. He assisted couples with their paperwork, made endless phone calls to hospital wards and doctors’ practices and spent many a sleepless night fighting for the men he thought of as his family.

But he was running out money.

“I have just enough for food to see us through this week,” he said, his vacant eyes staring off into space as he looked at the papers in front of him, “but the plumbing is shot and there are funeral fees to fork out for. I- “

Things were tough. Even someone with a heart as big as Kyungsoo’s couldn’t do enough on his own.

Baekhyun pulled a chair out from the table, the drag of the legs across the linoleum deafening in the silence, and sat down next to his friend.

“You don’t have to find that money on your own,” he assured a trembling Kyungsoo in a gentle voice, “with Jongin’s new ballet gig, we’ll have enough money to cover rent and Taeyeon has already promised you she can help with nursing requirements for free…”

He held onto Kyungsoo’s fingers and traced the green-blue veins along the back of his clammy hand.

Kyungsoo took a shaky breath before smiling up at his friend, a distant sparkle in his eyes. He didn’t need to say a word for Baekhyun to know he was thankful.

They had a good system going, the six of them who called the flat their home. They were a close-knit family, despite not being related by blood at all. Just six gay men thousands of miles from home cooped up in the apartment above a Korean supermarket, freezing the nights away, but warm in each other’s company.

“Besides,” Baekhyun offered with a smirk, “Jongin could always charm the _ajumma_ downstairs out of a few weeks’ rent…”

Kyungsoo chuckled at that, knowing how easily bought their older landlord was by his charming, dancer boyfriend.

“That’s if I can drag him out of bed before closing time,” Kyungsoo said with an eye roll.

Baekhyun giggled, squeezing his friend’s hand on impulse. 

“How’s he doing anyway?”

Kyungsoo sighed and stood up from the table, heading over to the countertop to boil the kettle. He thought for a second before leaning against the countertop.

“Er…he’s doing alright, yeah,” he dropped two tea bags in separate mugs as his head became crowned by hot steam, “he’s always tired and if we have to have one more cold shower I swear…”

“Cold showers!?” Baekhyun asked incredulously.

“Yep! Apparently, it stops his muscles aching and, if he’s rehearsing in the day and dancing in the evenings, he needs to try to prevent that.”

Kyungsoo pulled some milk from the fridge and sniffed it suspiciously; the electricity cut off so often it had been known to go rancid pretty quickly.

“You know, you could always let him shower alone,” Baekhyun teased as he took the hot beverage into his cold hands.

“Ha! That’s rich coming from you! What was the name of the man you brought home this time?”

Baekhyun winced at the memory of a mere few hours ago. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel the dull ache on his poor head.

“You saw him then?”

“Nope,” Kyungsoo shrugged, “I could hear the banging and…he really was ploughing into you, wasn’t he?”

Baekhyun snorted into his tea and looked over the rim of the mug, staring right into eyes just as mischievous as his own.

Raucous laughter tore through their aching chests and they shook and spluttered as though their lives depended on it, the stress shedding off their shoulders piece by piece.

It was only when the wall behind Baekhyun’s back began to ripple from the aggressive banging on the other side that they stopped.

“Jongdae.”

Both men said at the same time. If there was anyone who didn’t like being woken up, it was Jongdae who was now very unsubtly mumbling and groaning. His partner, Minseok, was trying to placate him but to no avail.

“You know that _dick_ started a bar fight again tonight!”

“Ah, for fuck's sake! Why this time!?”

Unfortunately, Jongdae was a bit of loose cannon. When in familiar company, he was the kindest, wisest and most attentive man anyone could ever wish to know but when not, he was nothing but trouble. See, his heart was in the right place but he didn’t have an off switch.

He called himself an activist; tying himself to lampposts and the houses of governments officials, fighting for whatever cause he had been captivated by that given week. All passion and fire. But if you play with fire, you get burned and, unlike the rest of the men in their small family, he wasn’t one for flying under the radar.

“Some twat down the pub recognised him from when he was on Channel 4 the other day talking about that protest down the park…”

“Ah shit.”

“Yeah…” Kyungsoo just shrugged, “he managed to hold his own as usual but Minseok is in bits.”

One thing all activists could do with would be a fully attentive life partner, someone to patch up their scrapes and bruises every time they pushed the wrong person’s buttons. That doesn’t mean said partner would be overly impressed with that responsibility.

“Surprised Minnie didn’t finish the job off…”

The two grinned before sitting in prolonged silence. The oddly muffled police siren passed through the walls and the incessant dripping of the tap sounded like a thunderous noise in the silence.

“Anyway,” Kyungsoo said as he stood up from his seat, “I best sleep now.”

“Yeah…me too.”

Without a sound, they gathered up all of the papers on the table and organised them into neat piles before heading out of the door.

Just as Kyungsoo was about to vanish into his room, he turned to Baekhyun in the dark.

“Hey…erm,” he started nervously, “I need to talk to everyone tomorrow…a house meeting, of sorts. Will you be around in the morning?”

Eyebrows creasing up in concern, Baekhyun nodded vigorously.

“Yeah sure but…what’s up?”

A smile was the reply and a simple word.

“Tomorrow.”

It wasn’t even light outside when Baekhyun woke the next morning. The air was icy cold and the sky pitch black but the world was already waking up.

He hated waking up in winter. The lack of sunlight left his mind confused and his body longing for the warmth of his bedsheets. Life was far too relentless for that kind of attitude, sadly, so he tore his tired body out of his room and into the front.

The room was far too tiny to accommodate six men. What with one tattered old sofa that they had picked up from the side of the road, a tv that spat out static shocks and hissed every time it was turned on, and a bookshelf filled to the brim with yellowing titles, there was barely any floor space.

Along with the lingering cigarette smoke, thick dust stuck in every nook and crevice, and damp clustering on the walls, it was any wonder any of them could breathe.

Speaking of.

“You got one of them for me?” Baekhyun asked Sehun, his friend and partner in crime, who was sitting on the sofa smoking a cigarette with one hand, holding a tattered paperback in the other.

As a college student a few towns over, intelligent enough to be pursuing actual A-levels, Sehun was more often than not the first person awake.

Without saying a word, Sehun fished around in the pocket of his nightshirt, careful not to scald the fabric and dropped a box of cigarettes on Baekhyun’s lap.

He didn’t halt his reading as Baekhyun fought with a match and lit up, nor when Baekhyun squashed up against his friend and rested his head on a bony shoulder.

“What you reading?”

Sehun sighed and dropped the book, clearly understanding now that Baekhyun wasn’t going to allow him to read in silence, and cleared his throat.

“Pet Semetery.”

He always had been a man of very few words. Always choosing when to speak very carefully, always saying something profound or downright hilarious.

“What’s that about, then?” Baekhyun was genuinely eager to know, even if he would definitely annoy his friend in the process.

Sehun rolled his eyes, “it’s about a cemetery that brings dead things back to life…in short…”  
  


Baekhyun wasn’t too impressed with this and screwed his nose up in disgust.

“You just don’t understand good literature…” Sehun huffed and tried to shake his friend off his shoulder.

“You’re reading a book about dead things not being dead anymore…it’s creepy and weird…”

Sehun just shook his head, as much as to say, _listen to this uncultured swine._

“No, you idiot!” _Oh, here we go,_ “it’s clearly a commentary on the human condition…”  
  


“Oh my god…”  
  


“No, seriously,” Sehun was getting stroppy, “it teaches a very good lesson; sometimes, dead things are better off left that way!”

Baekhyun could see through that philosophical bullshit a mile off and placed a gentle hand on Sehun’s tensed up shoulder.

“You know, I’m sure if you called Michael, he would be willing to sort things out… “

Sehun made it very clear how he felt about that observation by jumping from his seat and flinging his dusty book right into Baekhyun’s face.

“YA!”

A cackle came from the doorway as a very angry Sehun forced his way past a freshly awaken Jongdae.

“Now, now, ladies! What’s all the commotion?”

“Sehun is reading books about resurrected pets because his boyfriend dumped him.”

Jongdae nodded in understanding, scrunching his lips up thoughtfully.

“Unconventional but very typical of our resident starving writer.”

Baekhyun nodded in agreement watching his friend emerge from the darkness and into the dimly lit living room.

“He’s too clever for his own good, I swear. He just needs to chill…”

As his friend’s face was exposed outside of the shadows, Baekhyun’s words trailed off in shock.

When Kyungsoo had said Jongdae had been scrapping, he may have undersold the severity of the situation.

With wide eyes, Baekhyun squeaked, “what that _fuck,_ Jongdae!? Your f…”

“Ah, be quiet. It’s nothing,” he waved a dismissive hand.

If a giant bloody gash across the eyebrow bone and a bruised cheek were ‘nothing’, Baekhyun really needed to look up the new meaning of the word.

He stared at his friend in horror as Jongdae casually headed over to the TV to switch on the morning news.

“Let’s see if I made the morning headlines again, shall we?”

That pissed Baekhyun right of. He shot from his seat and gave Jongdae a right wallop over the back of his head with Sehun’s tattered book.

“Ya! What are you playing at?!”

“You are such a daft bastard!”

That made Jongdae quite angry, to say the least.

“Me!?” he spat, “I’m no bastard, mate!”

“So, the guy just beat you up for no reason then! Wow! Sure, you…”

“NO! No, actually,” a vein started to bulge from his forehead and his skin turned a dark rouge colour, “that prick beat me up for a very good reason!”

“You were winding him up, I suppose!”

“No! You are such a knob, Baekhyun,” Jongdae let out a guttural groan, “he beat me up because I am a poof!”

The two men stared into each other’s eyes, Jongdae’s burning with fury and Baekhyun’s welling with tears.

“He was taunting me. Telling people not to touch me, the barmaid not to serve me in case I had AIDs or some shit and…” he ran his hands through his hair, “I snapped because I didn’t want to have to listen to that _bollocks,_ Baekhyun. I can’t listen to it anymore…”

His voice started to tremble as Baekhyun reached out a shaking hand to trace the harsh cut on his friend’s pained face.

“I’m so sorry, Dae, I…”

Then a chipper voice trailed in from the hallway.

“Dae, love! Is that you?”

It was Minseok, probably wondering where his boyfriend had got to.

“Not a fucking word.” Jongdae spat, digging a finger into Baekhyun’s chest with finality.

Baekhyun threw his body onto the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. As if he had any intention of dragging Minseok into Jongdae’s drama. Knowing his friend, he had probably convinced his other half that he’d walked into a brick wall or something.

Not that Minseok was daft, or anything. He was always tuned in to other people’s emotions and certainly knew when Jongdae was spurting crap but he loved him too much to try and hold him down, to try and stop him from getting at the things he cared about.

Already dressed for work in a beige corduroy suit and red boots (surely not uniform regulation), Minseok gathered Jongdae into a tight hug.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the couple exchanging their good morning kisses in the part of the room where the dim morning light was beginning to filter through the window.

Baekhyun’s heart squeezed in his chest watching Minseok gently caress Jongdae’s bruises as he kissed the side of his jaw. All of his animosity towards the beaten and bruised man washed away as he watched Jongdae’s eyes flick towards his feet in shame.

Thinking back to the evening before and the absolute shambles that was his love-life, Baekhyun couldn’t help the tightening of his throat as a sad lump rose upwards.

Of course, he couldn’t be happier for his friends. He just wondered when he would get so lucky.

Clearing his throat and rubbing his hands across his stinging eyes he spoke.

“Right. Anyone want tea?”

Minseok drew away from Jongdae, discretely grabbing onto his hand in the process, and beamed in Baekhyun’s direction.

“You read my mind!”

“Mine, too,” came a voice in earnest from the doorway.

“Ah, Sehun!” Baekhyun teased as he flitted towards the kitchen, grabbing scummy mugs lying about the place as he went, “thank you for joining us once again.”

Sehun, in an immature fashion representative of his young age, just rolled his eyes before offering Minseok a good morning hug. A very much appreciated hug, somewhat resembling a koala clinging on a tree for dear life.

“Such a baby,” Minseok said with a chuckle.

Sehun just pouted.

The comforting sound of the kettle beginning to whistle, closely followed by the spitting static and intermittent voices from the television as Jongdae fiddled with the aerial trying to get a decent signal.

He finally settled on the morning news and he and Minseok snuggled up on the sofa, Sehun cross-legged on the floor at their feet.

As Baekhyun was finishing up the mugs of tea, a very tired and zombified Jongin made an entrance. After being cast as the leading male in the local production of Swan Lake, his rehearsal hours had been relentless and it certainly showed in his face and the drooping darkness of his under eyes.

Not that this mattered at all to Jongdae, upon noticing that the young Ballet dancer had arisen sans a shirt, revealing sturdy washboard abs and stunningly tanned skin.

“OI! OI” He called, earning him a squeeze of the nipple from his boyfriend.

Baekhyun offered him a sympathetic smile and a hot beverage.

“Thanks, Baek.”

“Fucking hell! Come and listen to this shit,” Jongdae called, “you won’t believe what this silly bitch has to say this time!”

Baekhyun and Jongin handed out hot mugs of tea to gormless faces as everyone in that room stayed glued to the television in horror and almost amused disbelief.

The prime minister was filling the screen, her face grainy and contorted given the poor reception but her voice all too clear.

“Do we have to listen to Thatcher? Put us off our breakfast, why don’t you?” Baekhyun groaned, all without moving his eyes, “Sehun turn it up, will you?”

 _“Too often the children of this country don’t get the education they need,”_ her uppity voice crackled through the speakers, _“Children need to be taught to respect traditional moral values.”_

That earned a scoff from Minseok who knew of those traditional moral values all too well. As an English teacher at the local comp school, he greatly resented the fact that his teaching was so restricted by the “morals” of a country that clearly had none.

He also knew all too well what she was precisely referring to because, as a gay man, he knew his job was on the line every second of every day because of a secret he had to keep to himself outside of his loving home.

Jongdae kissed him on the temple, almost as though he could read his thoughts.

_“Children are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay…”_

“Ah shit…”

“Aish!”

Came the chorus of voices around the goggle box, each and every one of them feeling sick to their stomachs, only amplified by the cheers of Thatcher’s supporters.

_“All of those children are being cheated of a sound start in life…”_

That went down about as well as one could imagine. The men in the room all had their two pence to scream at the television, needing to get it out of their system. It’s not as though the prime minister herself would ever give them a real chance.

“ _Gaesaegi_ \- someone shut that bitch up or I’m going to do it!”

“Jongdae, sweetheart. She’s just not worth it, hun.”

“Why did we even come to this bloody country?” Sehun asked what was on everyone’s minds, “I mean, we weren’t wanted at home because we’re gay…and we aren’t wanted here even more because we’re Koreans…”

The silence in the room was deafening.

“These people…the white people, the breeders,” he continued, voice solemn, “they don’t want us. But we need them. We need them to listen to us as we grovel. We need them to treat us with respect to have what the Englishman has. We need them to do favours for people like Mrs Kim in the shop downstairs…almost as though they’re our saviours and this is the shit we get…”

Baekhyun slowly stood up and pattered, barefoot over to his friend, taking a seat on the floor next to him. Gently, he pulled the young man’s head into his chest and kissed his head. He shushed him like a mother would, wanting nothing more than for the 20-year-old to feel wanted. Loved. Safe.

“That may be true…”

Kyungsoo was awake now, standing near the now muted television with a ring binder in his hands, already dressed in a double-denim, doc martens ensemble.

“…but we don’t accept handouts in this house,” he continued as he opened the folder in his hands and handed out hand-written papers to the glum-looking men in the room.

Clearly, Kyungsoo had spent a significant amount of time mapping out these papers and copying them out multiple times. Outlined in great detail was the income of the household, as well as every item of expenditure possibly imaginable.

While Baekhyun never did consider himself a mathematical genius, he certainly knew what spending beyond your means looked like. As well as being able to see the glaringly obvious red ink in which Kyungsoo had very helpfully written: “-£50: October”.

“Soo, what’s this?” Sehun asked with a concerned tone, his face contorted as the numbers blurred in front of his eyes.

“Thought you were supposed to be the college student here,” Jongdae teased with a bobbed-out tongue.

Kyungsoo explained what they all, sadly, already knew.

They couldn’t afford to stay in that flat any longer.

The rent for the Korean supermarket downstairs was going up so the landlady had no choice but to put their rent up, too. Given that Minseok’s income was the only reliable money coming in, with the odd instalment from Jongin when he had dancing work, they couldn’t reasonably expect to find any spare cash.

A few months back, they had an unexpected windfall and, given that it made their lives so much easier they didn’t even question it. The cupboards were full, the electricity ran smoothly, and they even had money to spare for a day out in Brighton one Saturday.

Everything was peachy until Minseok found just under a kilogram of cannabis in Jongdae’s underwear draw and flushed the lot down the toilet in a rare fit of rage.

That didn’t mean the loose cannon of a man had learned his lesson, however.

“No, Soo,” Jongdae insisted, “this is our home. We’re not leaving here if finding that money kills me.”

Without having to say a word, it was obvious that this had struck a chord with Minseok. The atmosphere in the room became so thick it could have been cut with a knife as the young teacher tensed up and his jaw fluttered in frustration.

Sensing the tension, Kyunsoo waved a hand in dismissal and drew another sheet of paper from his folder.

“That will not be necessary,” he replied curtly.

Baekhyun should never have even indulged the notion that they would have to move out of their loving home. The sickness ebbed away as quickly as it had arrived; of course, Kyungsoo had a plan!

“Okay…so, you know how we started taking in homeless people at the men’s shelter just outside of town?”

There were scattered murmurs across the room. There was a possibility that Kyungsoo had mentioned this before but no one could be too sure.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes at the blatant lack of interest in his work.

“Charming. Anyway, I’ve spoken to Mrs Kim’s son, Junmyeon, and he says that he’d be happy for us to add another tenant to the books and I-.”

“Woah, woah, woah!”

The energy in the room turned immediately anxious as the idea of introducing a new member to the group out of the blue flurried through everyone’s minds.

Who the hell would this person be?

How would they fit into their close-knit family?

Where would he sleep?

Every other room was already filled to the brim what with two people sharing the largest rooms and Sehun sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the renovated attic (if some roof insulation and a dab of white paint count as ‘renovating’ a hovel).

The only feasible place to put a complete stranger would be in the room of the person with extra floor space and a room of his own.

“OH! Hell no!” Baekhyun was not having that!

As a relatively introverted person, he really valued his own space. Over the years, he had taken great care in making it his own, as well, attentively planning where each picture hanging on the wall and every beautifully decorated throw and rug would go. He couldn’t just give that up for some stranger.

Not to mention the odd man he brought home to…spend time with.

“Come on, Baek,” Kyungsoo whined, “we don’t really have a choice now, do we?”

That was very true but it didn’t mean Baekhyun was _happy_ with the idea.

“I can get a job, Soo! I-I’ll do anything just _please…_ give me time, I’ll sort something.”  
  


The eyes in the room looked at him with immense sympathy. They knew as well as he did that he had no chance. A flamboyant gay man who spoke heavily accented English without a qualification to his name wasn’t getting a job at the drop of a hat.

“What?” He spat defensively, “I can ask Mrs Kim for a job! I can sweep hair off the floor in the hairdressers down the street! There is a world of options out there…”

“Why don’t you have a job then, Baek?” Minseok wasn’t being mean when he asked this, sympathetically stroking his friend’s arm, but he had a very good point.

“And that’s where I come in!” Jongdae was really pushing his luck as the light kick in the shins from his boyfriend proved.

“Kim Jongdae you shut your mouth or I’m going to do it!” Minseok glared at his boyfriend before turning back to Baekhyun with a smile.

They were stuck behind a rock and a hard place and Baekhyun had no choice but to concede.

“Fine. Call the guy up. Then we’ll take it from there.”

It was freezing cold outside that day. The wind was icy as it cut into Baekhyun’s face like daggers. No matter how tightly he pulled his leather jacket around himself, the wind still found a way to chill his bones.

The massive tear in his boots didn’t help to keep his feet warm, either.

As was commonplace in his life, he had left the house in a sour mood. Not only did he not get enough sleep, leaving him with a splitting headache, but he was also about to be roomies with some homeless guy.

As rock-bottom as Baekhyun’s life had gotten, he hadn’t quite reached the point of homelessness yet, nor would he want to, of course. But he couldn’t find much room for sympathy towards the man who would undoubtedly upset the balance that he and his friends had worked so hard to create.

It was a pure coincidence that the six of them had met when they did. Jongdae and Minseok had put a carefully worded advert out at a laundrette in the middle of their hometown back in Korea looking for “young bachelors to rent property in London, England.”

To the unassuming eye, it could have just looked like a normal advert from university students looking to take their life adventure elsewhere. Except this advert included a discretely positioned, inverted pink triangle in the top right-hand corner. Baekhyun recognised this from imported gay magazines which passed around the other “single bachelors” who were known to each other at the time.

Unsurprisingly, Baekhyun wasn’t the only person in his hometown who was looking for an out. When he contacted the landline on the notice, he learned that Kyungsoo and Jongin were a newly blossoming couple who were ready to start a life for themselves, too. Sehun came along at the last minute when he got talking to Jongdae at the dive bar he had worked at since he turned 19.

From that point onwards, they had been completely inseparable; them against the world. It was as though a bond had formed whilst they were on the journey over the oceans and it hadn’t broken ever since.

The idea that someone else was about to encroach upon that made him feel hollow inside.

“Hey, Baekhyun!”

A woman’s voice pulled him out of his self-pity and brought him back to planet earth.

“Taeyeon, is that you?”

His friend was picking up her pace from where she was walking behind him, seemingly on her way to work.

Her brown locks were scraped up into a tight bun and her nurse uniform, complete with ugly leather shoes and thick black tights, made her look shorter somehow. But even with her professional attire and a bare face, she was still Taeyeon.

As soon as she was close enough, she pulled Baekhyun into a rib crunching hug that knocked the wind out of him.

“Oh wow! I was starting to think you’d left the country!”

She held him at arm’s length, inspecting his every inch like a fussy mother. She frowned when she saw the tear in his boots.

“Nope. Still here. Lucky me,” the sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed.

Taeyeon looked at him with great pity which annoyed Baekhyun more than anything. He didn’t need pity he just needed to get his life on track and everything would be fine.

“Still no luck with the job search, then?”

He just shook his head. There was nothing to say, really. They had been having the same conversation for at least 12 months since Baekhyun’s savings ran out. It wasn’t worth the breath.

His friend offered a sad smile and a pat on the shoulder.

“Amber is having the same trouble,” she admitted with a sigh, “you two should start a musical duo and busk on the streets of Camden or something.”

They both chuckled at the idea of Taeyeon’s ever serious and upright girlfriend teaming up with the like of Baekhyun to entertain the people of London.

“God! You’d have to drag her away from her D.I.Y, first,” Taeyeon winced, “I tell you what, Baek, I’d love you for it!”

The man snorted in amusement. Six months before, the couple had moved into a small house with two of their friends and Amber had set her sights on turning it into some kind of palace ever since.

“The woman needs to lean that we live in a semi-detached house in a dodgy housing estate and not actual Buckingham palace…”

Despite their lovers’ quarrels, it was clear that Taeyeon had found the perfect match for herself in Amber and they were infinitely lucky. Baekhyun’s heart twanged at the thought of them and made him feel as though England wasn’t such as waste of time, after all. Maybe he would get his chance, too, soon enough.

“Tell you what,” Taeyeon continued, unaware of her friend’s intense internal monologue, “how’s about we meet up later today. For coffee or for dinner?”

That sounded like music to Baekhyun’s ears and, as he waved goodbye to his friend, the thought of another pointless trip to the jobcentre didn’t feel so tragic.

As per usual, the jobcentre was filled to the rafters with people just as desperate as him but also leaving just as quickly as him.

The lights were always too bright and the building always smelled like a mixture of new carpets, body odour, and cigarette smoke which was, quite frankly nauseating.

“Mr Byun,” a voice finally called.

Slowly, he took the walk of shame towards the desk where a young woman with a frightful tight perm and wide-framed glasses met him with a forced smile.

Perhaps the one thing more unfortunate than having at no job at all would be having a job at the jobcentre. Every day, you are reminded how fleeting employment can be and spend your time in the company of the most downbeat, desperate people on earth.

“Good morning, Mr Byun.”

He just nodded in response, biting his tongue so as not to ask the woman if she actually found her job at the jobcentre. Did anyone ever find a job at the jobcentre?

After going over the same questions for what felt like the millionth time, giving canned responses, and nodding in all the right places, Baekhyun sensed what was coming.

With furrowed brows, the woman behind the desk flipped through the pile of forms on her desks before looking up at Baekhyun apologetically.

He didn’t even listen to her answer.

Baekhyun often wondered what he was going to end up doing with his life in the long run.

He would lie awake every night, cigarette in hand, longing for sleep to take him, allowing his mind to travel to wherever it so wished. He would strain his mind to conjure up images of the future he could potentially have.

The house he could one day buy if his employment status improved.

Maybe he would like a terraced house on the outskirts of the city?

Too unrealistic, he always concluded before the thought was so much as complete. How could someone with no qualifications or life prospects ever afford something so…normal? So nice?

And when it came to work, he had no idea what he wanted to do. He was almost certain that he had once had dreams about being a career man. He distinctly remembered discussing such things back in Korea as a young boy; he could be a banker, a shop owner, a farmhand, a construction worker, an a _stronaut,_ for goodness sake. But as much as he fought to remember, he had no idea what a young Baekhyunnie had wanted for his older self.

This Baekhyun didn’t have the energy to want for anything.

One thing he had always imagined he would have had by now was a wife.

From a very young age, his _omma_ would always tell him, “one day, you will have a wife, have children and then you will be happy.”

That had never quite come into fruition but not from want of trying. As soon as he was allowed to step outside of his parents’ house and onto the streets of his hometown alone, he was kissing girls, holding their hands with promises of babies and marriage. And he thought he felt something towards them, too.

Until he met Jinwoong, of course. 

He was just 15 at the time and had been exploiting the summer heat by reading at the local park every single day.

There was something he used to like. Reading. He just didn’t have the passion for it anymore, he supposed.

One sunny day, as he was sitting alone, ploughing through a Korean translation of some soppy, American romantic comedy, a young boy came to sit beside him.

“It is quite uncouth for a boy of your age to wear unmatching socks,” was all he said which Baekhyun found amusing rather than rude.

The boy wasn’t wrong.

From that day onwards, they had been completely inseparable and, without fail, Baekhyun would rise with the sun each day, desperate to get to the park where his new friend would be waiting for him.

Jinwoong was his missing piece. All of the pain and anxiety that came with being 15 completely melted away once they began talking about the books they had been reading, the meals their mothers had prepared for them and the dreams had been having at night.

It wasn’t until Jinwoong kissed him one evening as they watched the clouds float amongst the pink and orange sky that Baekhyun realised he had fallen in love.

The second Jinwoong’s lips touched his, Baekhyun’s world began to spin at the speed of light, the air wooshing past his hair and into his lungs making him feel alive for what felt like the first time. He felt like he was floating as Jinwoong’s damp, inexperienced lips pressed tightly against his own, teeth accidentally catching on teeth, sweaty palms frantically grabbing at pieces of clothing, simply to ground them both, to stop them from drifting away from reality.

Suddenly, it made sense why girls kisses felt so hollow. Because Baekhyun wanted to kiss boys. He really wanted to kiss Jinwoong. He hoped as he lay in bed that night with a fluttering stomach and a squeezing chest, that he could kiss him again the next day.

But Jinwoong never came back. Like dandelion fluff; it’s there for momentary amazement and then gone in the next second.

A decade later, Baekhyun sat staring at the morning sky, wondering how he could rekindle that weightless feeling he had felt that day.

He wondered if a new life on the other side of the world would help revitalise his confused and scared heart. But, as they say, you can take a boy out of his country but you can’t take the country out of the boy and Korea had taken root in Baekhyun long ago and Britain didn’t have what he needed to keep the roots inside of him alive.

Baekhyun wasn’t depressed in his new life, of sorts. He was still eager to wake up every day, to take the steps he needed to take towards building a life for himself. But he didn’t have to stay awake long to feel as though he had wasted his time. To feel as though waking up was pointless.

Baekhyun didn’t need to get over a great depression within himself. No. What Baekhyun needed to do was fill the chasm Jinwoong left behind.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

As she bustled through the café, Taeyeon looked far more flushed and dishevelled than she had that morning. No less beautiful, mind, her hair beginning to curl up around her blossoming cheeks, cascading from the bun becoming loose on her head.

Baekhyun just waved her off and pushed a lukewarm mug of tea in her direction.

Her face scrunched up in anguish as she rested her heavy bag on the ground.

“What?” Baekhyun smirked teasingly, “it’s got milk and two sugars in it, don’t worry.”

His friend stuttered and scrunched her eyebrows accusingly at the hot beverage before her.

“Baek…I...”

“Ah!” He cut her off, “no way. I bought this as a gift. I may be unemployed but I’m not completely destitute.”

It was all he could do but to smile and shrug as his friend’s eyes turned sympathetic.

“Oh, love. Still no luck then?” Taeyeon sighed, finally wrapping her cold hands around the ceramic mug in a sign of surrender.

“It’s okay, really. There’s always tomorrow.”

Taeyeon nodded kindly.

“Of course, my love,” she reached across the table for his hand, “and you know I am always here to help you out.”

“Oh absolutely! Please shower me in your fancy nurse’s salary!” He shouted with a flourish of the hand, attracting unwanted attention from other patrons. He could only laugh at the attention, even if it was negative.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

Baekhyun winked with a cheeky grin. Of course, he knew that.

The two sat in silence for a while, guzzling down tea, conscious of the fact that their drinks were going cold.

It was nice, Baekhyun thought, to have a friend with whom he could be so comfortable that words were not always necessary.

He was lucky, too, to have a friend like Taeyeon. Not only was she beautiful inside and out, a small human with such a huge ball of fire and passion living inside of her, she gave Baekhyun the love of a sister he never had.

Even still dressed in her work uniform, her face bare and her hair stripped back, her eyes tired and drooping, her true self bled out in other ways. In the slightly chipped (non-protocol) black nail polish on her slender hands, in the tiny stick-and-poke tattoo of her girlfriend’s name on the underside of her left wrist, and the dozens of mismatched patches on the denim jacket which was as big as a tent on her tiny frame.

Baekhyun was convinced she was glowing.

“Erm…do I have something on my face?”

Taeyeon blinked at her friend in confusion, self-consciously dragging the back of her hand across her left cheek, searching for a blemish that wasn’t there.

“No,” Baekhyun said with pursed lips, “I was just admiring your beauty, my dear.”

His friend glared at him in disbelief, fidgeting in her chair in discomfort.

“Are you flirting with me, Byun Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun sat up straight in his seat, adjusting his collar, keeping up the pretence of a man trying to impress a fine young lady.

“Why, yes, I am. Would you do me the honours of being courted by a fine young gentleman such as myself?”

His friend giggled, coyly, and swatted Baekhyun over the shoulder, as though she were utterly flustered and completely flustered.

“Of course! Shall we get married, fuck each other missionary style, and make beautiful babies?”

“Sure! Want to snog in public without being beaten?”

“Sure!”

Baekhyun leaned across the table and placed an aggressive smooch on Taeyeon’s head – more of a suck than a kiss – leaving a big red mark.

“That was pretty hot,” she responded with a sultry wink.

They both tittered like school children at the performance they thought no one else had seen, very amused by their own sense of humour.

Until an old lady approached their table.

Their initial reaction was to tense up in fear. After all, old people (and people in general) only really paid attention to them when they wanted to tell them they had a seat reserved in hell or that they were corrupting ‘the kiddies.’ They had no reason to believe this time would be any different and so braced themselves for the oncoming storm.

They glanced at each other in confusion as the woman reached into her handbag and pulled out a £5 note.

“What is-?” Baekhyun uttered.

“it’s for you two, deary,” the old lady chuckled, “you seem like such a lovely couple. You remind me of myself and my husband when we were young. Buy yourselves something nice. A joint cutlery set maybe.”

How dull and frightfully straight, Baekhyun internally grimaced.

“Oh no. See we’re not actually-…”

Baekhyun tried to correct the old woman but was cut off by a sharp kick in the shin from across the table.

“That is so kind of you, thank you so much,” Taeyeon said with a slight waver to her voice and a saccharine smile.

The old lady’s eyes shone with glee as she patted Taeyeon’s arm softly and walked away.

“You’re a bitch,” Baekhyun deadpanned.

His friend simply shrugged, no signs of guilt, “I should be on the west end is what you a _ctually_ mean to say.”

She let out a pretend sob of joy, clutching her chest as actual tears began to well in her eyes. As soon as she had started, her face fell back to normal and she snorted to herself.

Baekhyun tutted and rolled his eyes.

“That is evidence of heterosexual privilege, right there! When has anyone ever given me money when I’m sucking some guy’s dick in a public toilet? The audacity!” He said, completely losing himself in the drama.

It was true. He only went cottaging every other Thursday but he still felt offended all the same.

Taeyeon simply shrugged as if he hadn’t just said something so simultaneously incriminating and slightly disgusting.

Baekhyun couldn’t help but admit the truth.

“I know a way to make you forget the toil of this cruel, cruel world, though,” Taeyeon said mischievously, waving the fiver in the air.

“First four rounds on the old lady!” 

By the time Baekhyun arrived home, the world had turned dark and the air had a certain warm glow to it.

Whether that glow was a result of the copious amounts of alcohol in his system or the prospect of sleeping with the man currently hanging from his arm was irrelevant.

The pair stumbled through the bottom floor of the shop, giggling like school children as they clung onto each other’s clothes to keep themselves upright.

Baekhyun could barely see an inch in front of him given that the shop had been plunged into darkness. Luckily, he had the luxury of having walked through that shop millions of times in the past and could easily navigate it without sight.

His companion did not have that privilege…

“Oh shit,” he drawled, wobbling all over the place, “I’m going to fall!”

And with a screech of terror, he did, tumbling into a stack of cereal boxes and pulling Baekhyun on top of him.

“Oof!” Baekhyun felt the wind being knocked out of him as he fell directly on top of the man, his hands colliding with his solid torso.

Perhaps if he had been sober, Baekhyun wouldn’t have gone on to caress the man’s sturdy pecs with such awe. But he could never say this for certain.

“Wow,” his drunk brain allowed him to say, “so strong.”

The man chuckled, clearly feeling rather smug, before dragging Baekhyun’s hands along his equally robust biceps.

“Like what you’re seeing?” The man was probably smirking but Baekhyun couldn’t be sure.

Baekhyun licked his lips and searched for the whites of the man’s eyes in the gradually less intense darkness.

“Absolutely,” he held the man’s face in his hot, sweaty palms, “I love big boys.”

With that, the man raised his head from the ground and collided his lips with Baekhyun’s own.

The kiss was sloppy and the man’s tongue resembled a wet fish in a washing machine but Baekhyun was too drunk and too horny to care.

He opened his mouth unattractively wide to allow the man’s tongue to graze his own, teeth clashing with teeth.

Clearly dissatisfied with how close they already were, the man grabbed onto Baekhyun’s leather jacket and pulled him even closer. Close enough to feel the burning hot bulge in the other man’s corduroy trousers.

“Ooo, naughty boy,” he gasped into the man’s mouth as he pulled away to nip at Baekhyun’s soft, swollen lips, “you getting a bit excited?”

The man hummed as he returned to exploring Baekhyun’s mouth with his tongue, causing Baekhyun’s body temperature to skyrocket as he did so.

While the man was distracted by mapping the outline of Baekhyun’s teeth, Baekhyun gently crawled his fingers across the man’s arms, across his partially bare torso, and down towards the hem of his trousers.

He feels the moment the man’s breath catches in his throat, suddenly stalling their kiss.

“Is this okay?” Baekhyun whispers into the other man’s mouth as he dances his hand gently around the man’s sensitive area.

The man responded by grabbing onto his hand and forcing it onto his swollen cock, eliciting an animalistic moan from the back of his throat.

In response to the most beautiful sound drunk Baekhyun thought he had ever heard, he forced his lips back onto the other man’s and began to pump his hand (perhaps too aggressively).

With ever moan breathed into Baekhyun’s mouth, he let out a high-pitched whimper physically suffering with how turned on he was, almost close to tears.

“Are you going to touch my dick, or what?” He puffed into the man’s hot mouth, barely able to gasp the words out.

The man groaned at the thought of having to delay his own orgasm for Baekhyun’s benefit but, all the same, lifted Baekhyun up off the ground ( _so strong_ ) and grabbed his hand.

“Show me the bed.”

The pair clambered off the floor, barely taking two steps before colliding their lips once again. Things were getting pretty heated and Baekhyun was itching to tear the other man’s shirt off, his trembling hands fumbling with the small plastic buttons.

Tripping over each other’s feet, they eventually made it to the bottom of the stairwell. Briefly pausing, the man pushed Baekhyun forcefully up against the wall, his back hitting the bannister but the rest of him too horny to care.

“Please,” he whispered, finally able to stroke the man’s bare stomach which was just as muscular as he had hoped, “please touch my dick.”

The man smirked, moving his hand towards the waistband of Baekhyun’s trousers painfully slowly.

“You’re a bit desperate aren’t you, baby?”

Baekhyun groaned with need as he felt warm, damp fingers stroke across the skin just shy of his aching dick. He clutched onto the man’s wrist, trying to force his hand down further but not able to overcome his strength.

“ _Please_.”

His eyes were pleading, even if the man couldn’t see them in the dim light. His whole body was trembling from the tension in his muscles. From the desperation.

Finally, he felt nimble hands begin to undo the buttons on his trousers and held his breath in anticipation, choking on a rogue moan as a finger accidentally grazed his cock.

His head began to swim with hot, white excitement when he felt his trousers reach his ankles, his legs so jelly-like that he had to clutch onto sturdy biceps to stop him from falling.

After what felt like an age, he felt the man’s hand firmly palm him through his underwear, sending such a fire through his body that his muscled tensed even more, forcing his jaw to slacken and his head to fling itself back against the wall.

Hot lips sucked on his gaping mouth as the hand worked its magic, his breaths becoming increasingly more erratic.

Just as his eyes began to roll back into his head and his heart began to seemingly slow down and speed up all at once, he felt himself floating up, up, up towards his peak. He was about to come.

“Oh-Oh my…Fuck,” he hissed, “I’m going to cum. I going to fuck-ah!”

The man’s lips migrated to the side of Baekhyun’s neck where he sucked harshly on Baekhyun’s pulsing jugular.

With sudden force, the man reached into Baekhyun’s underwear and began to pump his dick erratically.

“Oh-ho…oh fuck…ah shit,” Baekhyun was just babbling, completely lost in the sensation.

“Almost there, baby?”

“Oh, fuck yes! Don’t stop! Please. Do not stop!”  
  


Just as he felt white heat begin to flush through his body from his toes to his swimming head, signalling his climax, the light in the stairwell flicked on and the man’s pumping hand froze.

Clearly, they had just been caught in the act but Baekhyun was too close to care, his body pulsating like he was being powered by some kind of malfunctioning motor.

 _I’m going to die if I don’t come right now,_ he thought, completely panicking.

The man, whose face was now clear as day in the orange glow, his pale slightly stubbly skin dripping with sweat, looked at him with pity, before removing his hand. Baekhyun was left to pathetically thrust into thin air.

Whoever was standing at the top of those stairs was going to know what the pain of death felt like.

Allowing himself a second to collect himself, Baekhyun buried his head into his hand and took three very deep breaths.

_I won’t kill them. I’m going to fucking kill them. No, I can’t. Says who? They fucking blue balled me._

It was only when he heard clothes rustling in front of him that he looked up.

The man, who was infinitely more attractive in the light, had done up his shirt and was holding Baekhyun’s crumpled trousers out to him.

“I best be off,” he sounded really apologetic, and looked sympathetic, “nice to meet you.”

And with a pally pat on the shoulder and a sorry smile, he was gone.

Baekhyun threw his head back against the wall with a furious groan.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to show yourself?” He spat.

Maybe in the morning, he would feel bad for being aggressive towards one of his friends but not right then. Right then, he was sexually frustrated and angry.

If it turned out to be Kyungsoo, he would be immediately apologetic. If it were Jongdae, he’d wrestle him to the ground. If Sehun came down those stairs, he wouldn’t hesitate to ask him to finish the job.

A cough sounded from in front of him and Baekhyun’s glaring eyes shot open to reveal…a complete stranger.

He stood at least a few feet taller than Baekhyun, his hair black and utterly dishevelled (clearly unwashed) and he was wearing depressingly tattered pyjamas.

“Erm…who the fuck are you?”

The man at least had the decency to look apologetic. Maybe even a touch of fear danced across his eyes.

_Good._

“I-I…erm…I’m…”  
  


“Spit it out! I haven’t got all day! I have an appointment with a bottle of body lotion and my hand and you’ve already fucked my night up.”

He did feel a little disgusted at himself for saying that out loud but he was in a difficult situation. Which became even more difficult when the man’s gaze shifted towards his bare legs and the bulge in his pants. His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped in discomfort.

Baekhyun cleared his throat in annoyance and the man’s eyes shot back up.

“Well?” He prodded with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m the new tenant…Kyungsoo said he told you about me. Baekhyun, right?”

Now this was a surprise. As much as he dug through his mind, he couldn’t remember Kyungsoo telling him the new tenant was moving in that day.

“Erm…yeah, I’m Baekhyun but…”

“Chanyeol.” The man said suddenly with a clumsily outstretched hand.

Baekhyun was about to return the gesture before he hesitated. His hand had just been down another man’s pants, he wasn’t going to taint their first meeting. He pulled an apologetic face before gesturing to his bare legs and gradually deflating boner, and shrugging.

“Oh…I…right.” Chanyeol stuttered before crossing his arms across his chest.

An awkward silence stretched between them and Baekhyun could physically feel himself sobering up.

“I…I’m sorry if I gave you a fright,” Chanyeol continued, “I wasn’t supposed to be here today, I know, but there was…an emergency…of sorts so Kyungsoo said I-….”  
  


Baekhyun raised his hand to stall the other man’s explanation.

“You don’t have to explain yourself just…do what you need to do down here and don’t forget to turn the lights off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  


With that, he left the man stuttering on the bottom step, only briefly acknowledging the blankets laid out on his bedroom floor.

There is no feeling more blissful than waking up after the most refreshing night’s sleep, knowing full well that you don’t have anywhere to be and that no one expects anything of you.

With a satisfied moan, Baekhyun stretched his arms and legs, relishing in the way his muscles tensed and warmth rushed in as the stiffness melted away. He kicked his blankets off to reveal his completely bare body, finding comfort in the cool air as it rushed over him.

He loved waking up like this.

Though he enjoyed waking up with another warm, breathing human in his arms, nothing beat waking up in his own company. The freedom and ease it brought with it means a lot when someone rarely gets a minute of privacy in their busy home.

He could have stayed like that forever.

Unfortunately, this was a privilege he did not have.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Baekhyun’s eyes shot open to reveal Kyungsoo towering over his bed with a face like thunder.

Briefly, Baekhyun thought about pulling a sheet over himself before deciding that he really didn’t care enough. He pulled his heavy body upright, rubbing at his bleary eyes, trying so hard to work out what he had done wrong this time.

Kyungsoo remained stiff as a board, his hands folded across his chest in annoyance.

“Care to tell me why I found our new tenant sleeping on the living room sofa this morning?”

Baekhyun sighed, “why the fuck should I know? Seriously, Soo, I was having such a nice sleep…”  
  


Kyungsoo scoffed and thwacked his friend over the head.

“What is your _problem_?”

Surely Baekhyun was the victim here? He hadn’t done anything! It wasn’t even his idea to have a new tenant in the first place. If he didn’t have anywhere to sleep, that was all on Kyungsoo.

“So you’re telling me you usually keep a camp bed on your bedroom floor? And that you _didn’t_ step over it with the latest _whore_ you brought home last night?”

“You bitch!”

Baekhyun got out of bed at that and stood nose to nose with his friend, eyes blazing with fury.

Kyungsoo’s glare was unwavering, even as he felt Baekhyun’s angry breaths on his cheek.

“so, you’re telling me it isn’t true? That you didn’t bring a guy back home yesterday and yell at poor Chanyeol because he walked in on you?”

The idea that he had to explain himself for something as benign as bringing a man home with him was infuriating. And Kyungsoo’s words had really stung, even if he didn’t really mean it.

Baekhyun replied in hushed tones.

“He had his hands down my _pants_ , Soo! What was I supposed to do? Ask the new guy to join us?”

A roll of the eyes was the only reply he got. They were officially in a stand-off.

Though Baekhyun vaguely remembered being told that the new guy would share a room with him, he could hardly be blamed for forgetting in the heat of the moment. Especially when he didn’t know Chanyeol had moved in in the first place. Kyungsoo was being mighty unreasonable and he wasn’t about to let his guard down.

In the back of his mind, Baekhyun thanked the stars that his drunken escapades had been cut short; as much as he would have enjoyed an audience for the main event, he didn’t think that was the best way to introduce himself to his new roommate.

As the pair stood in silence, the faint sound of singing (some _Pansori_ by the sounds of it, bizarre for that time of the morning) made its way closer to the slightly open door.

Even though someone was making their way towards the room, neither man made a move to budge. Both were far too stubborn.

The door was thrust open as the singing abruptly stopped.

A look over Kyungsoo’s shoulder revealed a shocked Jongin holding a basket of white washing.

“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t mean to- Baekhyun why are you naked?”

Kyungsoo barely acknowledged his other half before seizing the opportunity to take another dig.

“Baek here has been a little slut… _again…_ and since he likes to take his clothes off so freely for any man who so much as breathes in his direction, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

Jongin wasn’t really sure what to say about that and simply picked up a pile of clothes from Baekhyun’s floor and shot out of the door, leaving it swinging open.

Baekhyun decided the most mature option at that moment was to tug on a clump of Kyungsoo’s hair.

“AGH! You bitch!” Kyungsoo screamed in pain, thrashing his arms out at Baekhyun’s bare torso.

“Ouch! Stop that”

“Not until you let go of my hair”

“No way! You need a haircut anyway.”

The pair pushed and shoved and yelled and screamed, kicking and hitting and yelling obscenities.

“What on _earth_ is going on here?”

Minseok was standing in the doorway looking absolutely horrified but that didn’t stop the pair from taking chunks out of each other in a fit of petty rage.

Then Jongdae appeared, cackling at the pantomime before him.

“Ha! Nice dick, Baek! I always thought it would be smaller than that!”

Minseok told him to shut up and stop being so unhelpful but it wasn’t like Baekhyun had heard anyway given the sharp tug on his very cold and pert nipple he had just received.

“Please, you two!” Minseok cried, “stop hurting each other!”

He really tried his best but the other two weren’t quite finished with each other yet.

Not until they were dragged apart.

“I’m not finished with him yet! Let me go!” Baekhyun thrashed his bare body, hitting whoever had been so rude as to interrupt his attempt to bite Kyungsoo’s arm.

The arms around his waist only tightened and a calm voice whispered in Baekhyun’s ear.

“Baek, calm down. Please,” came Sehun’s soft voice directly into his ear. His hair, still wet from having recently showered, dripped cool water onto Baekhyun’s shoulders, causing him to shiver.

Slowly, Baekhyun untensed his muscles and focused enough to look at the man in front of him.

Kyungsoo was no longer being held back from thrashing at Baekhyun and was, instead, standing with his face contorted in embarrassment and his hand combing through his tousled hair.

A slight glance to Kyungsoo’s left revealed a horrified looking Chanyeol, poised trembling arms, outstretched as though Kyungsoo could pounce at any moment.

“Ah shit,” Baekhyun muttered.

Kyungsoo raised his eyes to meet Baekhyun’s and he let out an exasperated sigh.

“That was so fucking stupid,” he admitted.

Baekhyun simply moved his gaze down to his bare feet, awkwardly shifting them about on the frayed carpet.

It was _really_ fucking stupid.

Although Baekhyun wasn’t concerned about the fact that he was still stark naked in a room full of people, he took kindly to the now cool bedsheet which Sehun draped over his exposed body. He grabbed the ends and pulled them tightly over himself.

“You two are such drama queens, you know that?”

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo both looked towards Minseok who was smirking at them both in amusement. Despite the embarrassment and shame at their childish antics, they couldn’t help but snort and giggle at what had just happened.

“I think you’ll find _Baekhyun_ is a drama queen,” Kyungsoo replied with a smug look, “I just feed into his over-indulgent life narrative. Bet he can’t wait to tell everyone down Soho about the brutal fight he got into with his evil housemate.”  
  


Baekhyun let out an ugly snort while Sehun just tutted.

“He sure likes a performance. I’ll give him that much,” the youngest member of the household quipped.

That was undeniable. But who could blame him? Life had a tendency to become a little…monotonous. There was no harm in seeking out a little spice every now and then, especially when there was nothing at peril. Apart from, perhaps his best friends’ sanity.

“Perfect way to introduce our guest, might I add,” Jongdae piped up.

As if attached to the same piece of string, everyone tore their eyes away from Baekhyun and slowly turned to face a slightly horrified looking Chanyeol.

All anyone could do was offer a series of apologies and guiltily file out into the front room of the house.

The next time Baekhyun saw his friends, he was thankfully fully dressed in a pair of tight black shorts and a floral buttoned shirt. He hadn’t bothered to style his hair so it hung carelessly over his tired eyes.

“You won’t be cold in those?”

Minseok stepped out from the kitchen holding two mugs of tea in his hands. He was clearly dressed to go out somewhere, his hair gelled back exposing his pale forehead, his shirt without a single crease.

He nudged a mug of tea towards Baekhyun with a wink and a whispered “don’ tell Dae”.

Baekhyun smiled in thanks and took a sip.

“Nah,” he replied as the comforting heat made its way down his throat, “I’m staying here today, anyway. You off out?”

Minseok’s face fell as he nodded, his shoulders slumping in a way that was uncharacteristically him. His usual cheerful nature was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve got a work thing,” he sighed, “one of the teaching assistant’s 50th birthday. A friends and family affair…”  
  


Baekhyun took another sip of his cup of tea, fully anticipating the caffeine rush that was to come, trying to work out what his friend was so down in the dumps about.

There was no secret about the fact that Minseok loved to drink his fair share. He often looked forward to a can of cheap beer or two after a long day at work, or a trip to the pub with work colleagues.

He was a happy drunk. A drop of alcohol in his system and he’d turn into to a giggling mess, his cheeks rosy, his mouth unable to stop running. Almost like his boyfriend’s when sober…

“You suddenly allergic to booze or something?”

Minseok chuckled; obviously not.

“Well, what then? Has something happened at work? If those bastards have said something to you, I swear-…”

“No, no, no,” Minseok insisted, “it’s nothing like that. It’s just…”

He reached into the pocket of his well-pressed dress trousers and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. With a shaky hand, he passed it to Baekhyun.

_Dear Mr Kim,_

_You are invited to Bernadette’s 50 th celebration _

_At Churchill’s Social Club_

_Partners also welcome_

Apart from the seriously tacky floral décor on the cheap paper invite, Baekhyun genuinely didn’t understand what the problem was. Teachers could be on the older side and a little stuffy but, as far as Baekhyun was concerned, Minseok was also rather old (a few years past 30 was unimaginable to Baekhyun) and could even be very, very dull. He read too much. And unlike Sehun trashy horror novels, he read actual academic books with words way beyond Baekhyun’s English proficiency.

Sometimes he insisted on talking about them which made Baekhyun want to shove a sock in his friend’s mouth.

Minseok clearly worked out that his friend was a little too dense to figure this out for himself and snatched the invite back, aggressively pointing towards the bottom line.

“They think I have a girlfriend, idiot.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened in realisation. Oh shit.

When you had a double life to lead, sometimes the odd lie or two was a necessity. But when it came to showing up to functions and fancy dinners without the person you wish you didn’t have to hide away, their absence stung like a pin to the chest.

“Just dress Jongdae in drag,” Baekhyun very unhelpfully, “I’m sure Sehun has a lovely wig and, between us, me and Jongin have enough make-up to set up a business.”

“Oh, sure! ‘Cause a shitty wig stolen from one of Sehun’s tasteless drag queen friends and a face of stage make-up will fool them all!”

Minseok had a teasing tone to his voice but he was clearly still nervous which made Baekhyun nervous for him.

He reached out for his friend’s trembling hands and squeezed tightly.

Nothing had to be said because it had been said thousands of times before.

_Whatever happens, they’ll always have each other._

_No matter what anyone else says, they have a home in each other. They trust, understand, and love each other._

That’s all you need sometimes.

The house became gradually quieter throughout the day as everyone left to go and live their lives outside the four damp walls of their tiny home.

Minseok to his party, Jongdae to one of his mysterious meetings, Kyungsoo to the shelter and Sehun…well he was doing whatever young people do when left to their own devices.

That left Baekhyun, Jongin and Chanyeol alone for the evening to keep themselves entertained.

For Jongin, this was no bother. He had one free day per week and he usually spent it sleeping, doing unsavoury things with his boyfriend, and breaking in ballet shoes.

The dancer took up half the living room floor jumping about and performing strange stretches. Not that this was a problem. He looked like an adonis, his skin dark and glowing, his body proportions to the standard of God’s. It was especially delightful that Jongin chose to only wear a loosely fitted white t-shirt and boxer shorts, displaying his fully formed thigh muscles for all to see.

Kyungsoo was one lucky man.

Chanyeol was silently sitting next to a very aroused Baekhyun on the sofa, filling out boring-looking forms, occasionally glancing at Jongin in fascination and confusion.

“He always does this,” Baekhyun explains, lolling across the arm of the chair, “he’s obsessed, I swear. All he does is dance, dance, dance. His brain is filled to the brim with dance steps and images of balls entrapped in tights…shame, really. You can’t have brains and beauty.”

A sharp sting tore across Baekhyun’s eye as a new pair of wrapped-up ballet flats hit him in the face at full speed.

“You are such a bitch,” Jongin snapped, “make yourself useful for once in your life and sew the elastics on those. Break in the soles while you’re at it or I swear to God, I’ll throttle you!”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes in annoyance and made a very dramatic and stroppy job of tearing the bag and elastic bands away from the shoes.

“It’s not a threat when you’re into being throttled,” he mumbled to himself, Chanyeol choking in shock at something he wasn’t supposed to hear.

At least the fresh leather smelled nice, Baekhyun thought.

Chanyeol seemed curious about his actions, not very subtly staring as Baekhyun’s agile fingers made their way around the shoes as though he had been doing this for his whole life. With little thought, he grabbed a shoe and bent it in half, waiting for the tell-tale snapping sound of the sole.

“Oof,” he exclaimed when the satisfying crack eventually came, “that made my nipples stand on end.”

Chanyeol looked even more horrified at that.

“Baekhyun,” Jongin groaned, seemingly giving up on his prancing around, “stop creeping him out.”

Jongin threw himself in between Chanyeol and Baekhyun on the tattered old sofa with a grunt. His muscles often ached horribly but he had been much worse lately. Baekhyun reckoned it was because the only food available in the house at that time had been rice gifted out of pity from Mrs Kim and tins of beans. Money really was short but Jongin would never admit defeat, however, and insisted his suffering was as a result of the cold air. Not that this was much better when central heating existed for seemingly everyone but them.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Baekhyun directed at neither man in particular, now battling it out with a too-long piece of elastic, “but I am bored out of my pretty little mind and, no offence but sewing up your little shoes like a housewife does not pass for fun in my book.”

Jongin merely tutted while Chanyeol sat still, stiff as a board, almost as though he was afraid the slightest movement would trigger a fight akin to the one he witnessed that morning.

“You know...Baek,” Jongin started hesitantly, “you don't have to do that for me every day...I-I don't mind."

Baekhyun carried on sewing as though he hadn't heard his friend's words. With almost expert precision, he added stitch after stitch, perfectly fine-tuned to Jongin's fit and preferences. He didn't even bat an eyelash as he cut the thread and tugged on the elastic to check the strength.

Then he bundled the tough leather up in his hands before lobbing the shoe at his friend's face.

“OW! _Shibal-_ what was that for?!”

Baekhyun barely noticed Chanyeol's horrified eyes as he turned to glare at his friend in annoyance.

“DON'T you DARE! You little shit! You think I'm just going to sit back and let you bring all of the money that is used to put food on my plate into this house and do nothing to contribute?”

Jongin slouched backwards with a pout almost like a petulant child being scolded b on his mother. Except in this instance, he was being chastised for doing _too many_ chores.

Baekhyun was starting to choke up as he carried on with his rant, “how do you think I feel as your _hyung_ to watch you work yourself to the bone on an empty stomach with barely any rest so that I can sit on my arse all day doing nothing. It's not...it's not fair.”

His voice shook with sadness as a solitary tear fell from his eye.

“Oh, Baek...”

Baekhyun sat twisting his fingers in his hands, holding his breath so as not to let loose any more tears. Things were clearly getting on top of him more than he thought. First, there was the fight with Kyungsoo, now this. He was a man on the edge.

“I need to get out.”

Jongin and Chanyeol both turned to face him with curiosity.

“We need to get out of this house. I need to get outside and let my hair down. No more sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves.”

“Okay…” Jongin replied with a look of confusion.

“We’re going out. We’re going to a club”

Chanyeol tried to protest; he had never been clubbing in his life and he still had paperwork to do. Not to mention that he had very little sleep the night before. Going out clubbing was the last thing he wanted to do.

Jongin, on the other hand, knew that resistance was futile. Besides, maybe Baekhyun was right. Maybe they all needed a change of scenery and, if Baekhyun was going out anyway, it was preferable that he had company so as not to let him go off the rails.

“Deal?” Baekhyun asked, not really asking at all and certainly not offering another side to this agreement.

The other two agreed reluctantly.

Clubbing it was.


	2. to thine own self be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might want to listen to this song before/ during reading this chapter ;-) 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3LbzjFJdSA

It was just over an hour later when the three of them found themselves standing in a short queue outside one of the busiest gay bars in the city.

Despite having decided to go out on a whim, they were still relatively early for a night out on the town. That didn’t mean that the clubs weren’t already fit to burst; no matter the day, the time, or the occasion, men like them needed a release. The stresses and trials of their daily lives took their toll and every single person out that night needed the chance the let their hair down, to feel safe in a place that wanted them, and to allow the stresses of the week to wash away.

This was something Baekhyun did more often than he himself could comprehend. If he didn’t know any better, he would almost believe that he had some kind of problem, after all, why else would a young man haunt the local bars every single night of his life if not by some chronic compulsion or addiction?

Perhaps he was an alcoholic. He couldn’t remember the last time he rested his head on his pillow at night without at least a gentle buzz pulsating through his veins. He certainly couldn’t remember the last time he slept in someone else’s bed without being somewhat inebriated.

But he didn’t have a drink problem. If anything, most nights he pretended to be drunker than he actually was, just to reassure whichever anonymous man he spent the night with that he wasn’t going to remember their time together. So that he could convince them and himself that his decisions were as a result of a loss of his inhibitions, not out of a desire for some company. Or a desire for something more.

No, that wasn’t it.

If London had gay tea rooms or cafes, Baekhyun would just as gladly spend his time there. In fact, he’d much prefer that. Then he would be reassured that the men in his company were there because they wanted to be, not because they had desires and urges they could no longer repress. Maybe they would be less likely to be carrying shame on their shoulders. Maybe then they could feel for Baekhyun in the daylight, not merely under the cloak of darkness.

He had even entertained the idea that he may have had a sex addiction. That wasn’t it, either. Half of the time, the sex was utter shit. No, what Baekhyun wanted was to have a warm body to entangle himself with as he fell into dreamland. He wanted much more than just a cheap fuck.

“Hey,” Jongin interrupted his thoughts, “you okay?”

His friend’s eyebrows were furrowed with worry, his eyes showing genuine concern in a way only someone as kind of Jongin could.

Baekhyun blinked rapidly as his focus shifted back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” he tried to sound convincing, “just a bit tired is all.”

“Erm, I’m sorry! Who was it that forced us to come out again?” Jongin teased with a cheeky smirk.

Baekhyun only gave him a tut in response. He knew his friend wanted an excuse to get out of the house, secretly. With ballet rehearsals and two shows 6 days each week, Jongin needed a break more than the rest of them.

He’d certainly made an effort to get into the spirit, anyway.

Baekhyun was clearly more sexually repressed than he thought because he couldn’t help but admire his friend.

He stood taller than Baekhyun with a wider, stronger stature. His tanned skin glowed with a pink and blue hue from the neon sign hanging above their heads, the light accentuating the subtle shimmer of eyeshadow on his top lids. The green button-down shirt was only done up to the bottom of his ribcage exposing his toned torso and his blue jeans were rolled up past his ankles exposing his dancer’s feet barely covered by black loafers. Along with his carefully gelled black hair and the small silver rings hanging from his earlobes, he looked so beautiful he could have been a model.

Baekhyun felt a little inadequate in all black, the only splash of colour coming from a solitary gold chain hanging from his earlobe to the crook of his neck. He made a mental note to ask Kyungsoo how he managed to pull such a stunning man. He needed the advice desperately.

“You think he’s okay?” Jongin whispered into Baekhyun’s ear, nudging him in the side with his elbow.

The pair focused their attention on Chanyeol who was standing alone a short way away from them.

He was shuffling nervously from one foot to the other, not-so-subtly glancing at two men, blatantly a couple, wrapped up in one another beside him. He simultaneously looked horrified and as though he couldn’t bear to tear himself away.

“You never seen a pair of queers before, babes?” Baekhyun asked quietly, softly. He wasn’t being cruel he was merely amused at the other man’s befuddlement.

Chanyeol stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide like saucers, his mouth bobbing like that of a fish.

The poor man stuck out in the crowd like a sore thumb and Baekhyun couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for dragging him out to such a place in just a beige woollen jumper and washed out jeans. But he could hardly leave him alone on his first proper night in his new home, could he?

“N-no, I haven’t,” Chanyeol stuttered out. His voice sounded even deeper than the night before which alerted Baekhyun to the fact that he hadn’t heard a peep out him since.

Jongin giggled at this, clearly finding it quite amusing.

“Well! You’re definitely in for a treat tonight!”

Baekhyun nodded in agreement, “absolutely! It’s about time we had some fresh blood around here. I’m sick of living with a bunch of old queens. A baby gay might,” he waved his arm searching for the words, “bring some…freshness...”

Jongin thumped him in the arm and snapped, “don’t be so fucking rude I’m no old queen”

“Babe,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, “you’re basically married to Soo. You two give straight people a run for their money in terms of domesticity. If that doesn't make you an old queen, I don't know what would.”

“No, I do not! Would straight people have sex as fulfilling as we do!? I do not fucking think so!”

The pair playfully bickered as the line moved forwards. Baekhyun accused Jongin of being frumpy while Jongin sounded like Baekhyun’s mother (in an ideal, parallel universe), demanding that he “settle down” and find “a nice husband.”

They were interrupted by a quiet voice.

“Erm…I’m not…g-gay.”

Chanyeol fiddled with the long sleeves on his jumper anxiously, refusing to tear his eyes from their spot over Chanyeol’s tattered shoes.

Jongin and Baekhyun glanced at each other in confusion.

They both knew full well that the homeless shelter Kyungsoo worked at only housed queer people, especially people like Chanyeol who clearly had money stored away somewhere that they could technically use to rent a space of their own. How else would be able to contribute to their rent otherwise? 

There was no way this man wasn’t queer in some way.

But the two men knew far better than to pry so silently agreed to drop it.

“Okay.” Baekhyun said simply with a soft smile, “that won’t stop you from having fun though, mister!”

Chanyeol tried his best to offer a smile but his face twisted from the tension in his nervous body.

Baekhyun stepped over to the other man and looped his arm around Chanyeol’s own.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, “we gays know how to have fun. You’re safe with us.”

Jongin nodded aggressively in agreement. Of that much, he could be certain.

The inside of the club was absolutely heaving with people. The air was hot and humid, the sweat from the dancing bodies hanging stubbornly in the confines of the dark room.

Baekhyun winced as the loud bass of Blue Monday pounded in his ears, momentarily making his head spin until he adjusted to the unnatural volume levels.

He liked it like this; he could barely hear himself think.

Standing on the tiptoes of his black leather doc martens, he peered over the crowds to seek out a spare table where the three of them could set up a base for the night.

Just as he was about to give up and stand over by the bar, a bizarrely eclectic group of men downed the last dregs of their drinks before clearing a booth towards the back of the room.

Knowing that speaking to the other two would be completely futile, Baekhyun reached for both Jongin’s and Chanyeol’s hands and dragged them through the clusters of hot bodies towards their destination.

Jongin’s hand was absolutely freezing – which was, quite frankly, his own fault for dressing as though it were 25 degrees outside – but Chanyeol’s hand was sticky and clammy with nerves.

Still moving forwards, Baekhyun turned around to glance at the other man and couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered around him anxiously, as though any of the people around him would suddenly flip and pounce on him without warning.

Perhaps Baekhyun had overlooked how nerve-wracking it was to walk into a gay bar for the first time. Assuming it was Chanyeol’s first time, of course.

Deciding not to make a big deal out of Chanyeol’s clear discomfort, Baekhyun opted to squeeze his hand a little tighter in quiet encouragement before dragging a stalling Jongin a bit harder.

“Here we are,” he shouted cheerfully shaking both the hands still in his grasp excitedly, “let’s get our drinks, boys!”

He threw his coat down on the leather bench revealing a black, sheer, see-through shirt. One of his favourites because it showed off his toned yet small frame in a way that got all of the men drooling over him.

“What you want, Chanyeol?” Jongin asked before Baekhyun got the chance which irritated him a little.

“I was going to buy tonight, Jongin,” Baekhuyn whined, stomping his feet like a petulant child.

Jongin looked him dead in the eyes with a stern glare.

 _He learned THAT from Kyungsoo_ , Baekhyun thought in annoyance.

Jongin sighed, “with what money, Baek?”

As much as it pained Baekhyun, he had to admit his friend had a point.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, staring at the floor sulkily, “I’ll have a pint. Whatever they have on tap I don’t really give a shit. Yeol?”  
  


He turned to look at Chanyeol who still looked as though he was on another plane entirely. He snapped out of his trance and flicked his eyes between the other two men almost as if he had only just realised where he was.

His vacant stare told Baekhyun that he hadn’t been listening to their conversation.

“You want a drink, my lovely?” Baekhyun asked.

Chanyeol contemplated for a moment. Clearly this was a very difficult question for him while most people would have already guzzled their first pint in the time it took him to decide.

“Erm…do they do tea? Just normal tea?” His voice was barely audible over the din but still loud enough for what he said to make Jongin chuckle.

Baekhuyn couldn’t help the fondness that flowered in his chest at the other man’s innocence and naivety. He had lost his own innocence long ago.

“Coke will be alright, too, yeah?”

Chanyeol just shrugged and Jongin flitted off through the crowds and vanished.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol shuffled onto the bench, notably sitting a few more feet apart than Baekhyun would deem necessary, especially given the volume of music in the room. How would they talk whilst sitting so far apart? Chanyeol flinched slightly as his hand accidentally strayed onto a sticky patch where someone’s drink had taken a tumble.

Going to a club for the first time was an interesting experience in the best of circumstances and Baekhyun couldn’t help but watch Chanyeol squirm with amusement in his eyes.

It wasn’t a particularly busy night so far but the usual crowd were out in full force.

Men dressed up to nines writhed amongst one another on the dance floor, entirely immersed in the way the bass pounded through their bodies, lost in the flow of ecstasy that came from leaving the outside world behind for just a short while.

Then, of course, there were more…shocking individuals who Baekhyun made a note to observe Chanyeol discovering for the first time later on in the night.

Over by the bar sat a cluster of drag queens with varying degrees of sophistication. One big and burly, plastered in tattoos furnishing a burning cigarette, another young queen dressed like it was prom night, taking up the lap of a man Baekhyun recognised as being an events organiser in the area. Despite his efforts to emit an air of sophistication, Baekhyun could see the way his suit jacket frayed and the way his upper lip dripped with sweat and anticipation.

A few booths away from them sat a group of men dressed from head to toe in leather accompanied by more men dressed in skimpy shorts with leather straps crisscrossed over their muscular torsos. The leather daddies. Baekhyun remembered the night he had spent with one of their kind a few months back and the memories of hot sticky leather rubbing his sensitive skin red raw made his blood run cold.

He turned back to Chanyeol, the man still wringing his hands and chewing at his nails. He was staring off into the distance and Baekhyun snorted thinking he was staring at the leather daddies. They were quite the sight after all. But as he shifted a little closer to the other man to explain to him what in the hell he was actually looking at, he realised that that wasn’t where Chanyeol was looking at all.

Over on a small two-seater table, there sat two young women, both situated on the same side of the table, drinks forgotten as they pressed their foreheads together. They were entirely absorbed in each other’s presence. Gently, slowly, Baekhyun watched on as they leaned ever closer to one another, lips meeting lips, soft smile meeting soft smile, red lipstick mixing with pink lipstick.

Chanyeol quickly averted his eyes and stared down into his lap with twisted brows.

He wasn’t disgusted, was he?

While many people had spent time coming to terms with the idea of gay men existing among them, many hadn’t even considered that there may be lesbians in the world, too. It seemed to hold less gravitas, for two women to hold deep affections for one another. It seemed less assuming. After all, all women needed a man one day to have their children. To give them a family. Lesbians seemed much less of a threat than AIDs riddled, subversive gay men.

As Baekhyun thought of this quietly to himself, Chanyeol sat opening and closing his mouth as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“A-are they together?” He asked softly, pointing to the two women subtly.

Baekhyun was momentarily stunned to hear the other man speak of his own accord but quickly swallowed down his shock so as not to scare Chanyeol back into himself.

“Well, yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged, “but, then again, women are just as horny as guys so maybe not?”

Chanyeol turned to him with perplexity, “really?”

Baekhyun let out a loud guffaw before smacking his hand over his mouth. This man was more innocent than he thought.

Chanyeol sulked and slumped backwards in his seat. He pouted as he continued, “I just. I didn’t know that women liked…women like that. I…I just thought they liked men because…well…”

“Oh…” Baekhyun took a long intake of breath, and exhaling deeply, “I…yeah they do. I genuinely thought you’d-,”

He stopped himself mid-sentence. He didn’t want to make Chanyeol feel bad and maybe it was too presumptuous of him to expect someone as fresh-faced as Chanyeol to understand even the simplest things in a life like Baekhyun’s. Especially when he had no real clue who this man was or where he came from.

“Do you know any women like that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Baekhyun trod carefully, “my friends are lesbians. Taeyeon and Amber. Well, Taeyeon is more like my sister, really…”

Chanyeol nodded seemingly connecting some dots in his mind.

“Are they nice?” His voice wavered with concern – goodness only knows why.

Baekhyun didn’t even have to think for a second before he nodded. He wasn’t sure if Chanyeol meant his friends in particular, lesbians in general…he wasn’t sure of anything, really but he needed Chanyeol to know that there was nothing untoward hiding in that room.

“Although,” he added with a solemnity to his voice, “you see that woman over there?”

He directed Chanyeol’s attention over to the barmaid, Barbra, who was pulling a pint with her stocky arms. She was a big lady. Short scraggy hair framed her round fierce face.

Chanyeol nodded wide-eyed.

“She is evil,” he whispered, “I heard she kidnaps kittens and eats them for tea. Scary stuff…”

Chanyeol paled and went stiff as a board, unable to tear his eyes away from the woman in question. Baekhyun nodded solemnly, as though he were devastated to have to share such awful news with the other man.

As they continued to observe the woman, she looked up from her work and glanced over to Baekhyun, raising a harsh eyebrow at him. Chanyeol took in a sharp gasp.

Like a switch went off inside of him, Baekhyun wore a shit-eating grin and waved enthusiastically to the woman who couldn’t help but smirk. In actual fact, he loved Barbra and had many a nice chat with her when he came out alone. She was stern but fair. Stony with a heart of gold.

She only rolled her eyes at him before moving her attention back to the bar but the scowl that Chanyeol gave him wiped the grin off his face.

“Oh, come on, Chanyeol,” he teased, “I was only messing with you! Just having a laugh!”  
  


The other man didn’t seem to find it even remotely funny and shuffled away from Baekhyun with a frown, grimacing as he accidentally sat in the same sticky puddle of beer.

 _Daft sod_ , Baekhyun chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, Jongin returned with three drinks balancing in his hands (surprisingly, no tea to be seen). He was accompanied by someone Baekhyun hadn’t seen for a long time.

“TAEMIN!” He beamed, shooting out of his seat eagerly, knocking the table in his excitement.

He bounced over to the other man and pulled him into a crushing hug.

“I haven’t seen you for absolutely ages!” He thumped the other man in annoyance, “where the HELL have you been, mister?”

Taemin smirked, shrugging his shoulders dismissively.

He was a mysterious man, Baekhyun always thought. He was beautiful in an unconventional way. He was draped in a loose white lace shirt, undone entirely, and satin trousers with a confident yet unscrupulous aura about him. His pale, unbelievably pretty face was painted with a dusting of rouge on milky cheeks and bold, glittered red shadow framed his eyes. Even many women couldn't even come close to replicating his charm.

He was even more mysterious in the fact that his whereabouts were often a complete unknown to everyone in his life but him. He only showed up at the bar if and when it pleased him to do so. While Baekhyun had asked Taemin where he had been, he didn't expect a straight answer.

“You're wasting your time, Baek,” Jongin stated matter of factly as he placed the glasses dripping with condensation onto the table and forced Taemin to shuffle along the bench to make room for him. “Mr international man of mystery here never shares his secrets.”

Baekhyun nodded at that. Taemin merely offered a knowing smirk. Baekhyun assumed he got a kick out of seeming more interesting than he actually was. Either that or he was up to something he shouldn't have been.

“BUT!” Jongin suddenly exclaimed, “he couldn't keep his new fancy man a secret,” he revealed much to Taemin's apparent chagrin.

When Jongin had spotted Taemin, he had been dancing sensually with another man, foreheads pressed together, hips moving with a fluidity and grace only someone as nimble and elegant as Taemin could possess. The two were in their own world until Jongin called over to his long-lost friend.

Baekhyun took a delicate sip of his drink before casually asking, “how many’s that now then, dear?”

Taemin leaned forwards bearing a sultry gaze and a devilish smirk.

“More than you will ever know,” he whispered, “I have more men in the palms of my hands than I know what to do with. They simply can’t resist my feminine essence. And I can’t resist their dicks. What can I say? I’m a romantic.”

This caused Baekhyun to scoff in amused horror. Taemin was a cheeky little shit and he knew it. He knew he was irresistible. It was no matter if he broke the odd old queen’s heart along the way.

“You sure they don’t just like your “feminine” hips and flat “feminine” ass?”

Jongin spat out his drink, unable to stop his laughter.

Taemin leaned back in his seat and crossed one leg daintily over the other, placing his soft hands on top of his knees.

“Now, now, Baekhyun, dear. Don’t be jealous. I’m sure you’ll hit puberty one day. Then your time will come around.”

C _harming._

“Anyway,” Taemin changed the subject as he often did. It was hard to maintain his interest for more than a few moments at a time and he had a horrible habit of commandeering a conversation so it suited the ebb and flow of his own mind of mystery.

The man slid across the bench until he was mere inches away from a startled Chanyeol, wrapping a spindly arm around the quiet man’s tense shoulders. He leaned in slowly, closer into Chanyeol’s personal space, breathing softly into his neck.

“And who do we have here? I’ve never seen this fine fresh-faced specimen before…he yours, Baek?”

“If by ‘yours’ you mean ‘lives on my bedroom floor’ then yes.”

“Ah,” Taemin uttered in understanding, “a new addition to the motley crew, I see. What’s your story then, doll?”

Chanyeol squirmed under all of the unwanted attention. Taemin’s curiosity was overwhelming him and, if he were a better person, Baekhyun may have asked the other man to back off and mind his own business. But truth be told, Baekhyun was itching with curiosity. And judging by Jongin’s bulging eyes, so was he.

Chanyeol fidgeted for a little while, refusing to move his head even an inch lest he accidentally make contact with Taemin’s piercing gaze.

“Come on,” Taemin egged him on, “we won’t tell.”  
  


Chanyeol thought for a little while more before he eventually spoke.

“My story isn’t that interesting, honestly,” he admitted, “I moved to London with my parents 5 years ago. 2 months ago, I had to…move out. Then I met Kyungsoo at the shelter. Now I’m here.”

Baekhyun internally groaned. Talk about the bare minimum. Why did he move out? Why Kyungsoo’s shelter of all places in the world? Where was he for the time between the two? Who on earth was this guy, really?

As ever, Taemin was the bold one in the equation and asked the budding questions.

“How did you know to find, Soo?”

It wasn’t an intentionally probing question but, from where Baekhyun was sitting, knowing what he knew about what Kyungsoo did and what Chanyeol had insisted earlier on about absolutely and equivocally not being gay, it was far too loaded.

“I erm…I know him through a friend. Someone told me about him and I wondered if he would be able to help. I…I didn’t want to stay at the shelter because…well…but I just thought…”  
  


A lie. Clearly.

Whatever the reason, Chanyeol didn’t want to share it and Baekhyun decided it was best to take the moral high ground and help him out.

“Ah, for God’s sake, Taem,” Baekhyun said with an airy laugh, “Kyungsoo knows everyone round here! He’s like the neighbourhood gossip! You ask him about anyone, he’ll know them. Get a drink or two in him and he’ll tell you all of their secrets, too. Isn’t that right, Jongin?”

The dancer had seemingly lost all interest in the conversation and merely shrugged. At least it threw Taemin off the scent as he shifted back over to Jongin, leaving Chanyeol to intake a relieved breath.

They sat for a short while in comfortable quiet, chatting about nothing in particular, observing the comings and goings of the bar. But Baekhyun couldn’t help but notice Chanyeol folding in on himself. The purpose of their night out was to cheer everyone up, not to force them into a state of insurmountable depression.

Then like a gift from heaven, Baekhyun’s favourite song – _Why?_ By _Bronski Beat_ – broke through the speakers, Jimmy Somerville's high pitched voice ripping through the bar, forcing Baekhyun’s hairs to stand on end.

“Oh my God!” He shrieked, “this is my song! I have to dance to this song!”

He looked over to Taemin and Jongin who seemed completely disinterested before flicking his head over to a wide-eyed Chanyeol. He grinned an impish grin and grabbed Chanyeol’s hand. Chanyeol’s eyes widened in utter pain as he was pulled from his seat.

“Dance with me.”

He wasn’t about to give the other man a choice as he pulled them through the masses of people to a small space in the middle of the dance floor.

Sweaty bodies surrounded them from all directions and people bumped into them as they danced along to the thumping beat.

Baekhyun began to pulsate along with the music as soon as he reached the clear space, sensually moving his wide hips along to the music, arms held in the air in a way that made him feel much looser and freer.

Chanyeol stood as stiff as a board, glancing around himself frantically, clearly having no idea what to do with himself. Suddenly, a body accidentally bumped into his side and he began to inch closer towards Baekhyun in panic.

“Do I really have to dance?” He shouted above the vocals of the song as they flooded through the room.

“YES!” Baekhyun replied with a dazzling smile.

He grabbed onto Chanyeol’s hands and began to pull the other man’s arms along with the music.

_Contempt in your eyes_

_As I turn to kiss his lips._

The voice sang over the speakers.

_Broken I lie_

_All my feelings denied_

_Blood on your fist._

Chanyeol slowly began to sway his body along with his now thrusting arms. He was moving with an uncertainty reminiscent of a baby animal who was just standing on its own feet for the first time. His hips moved with unsure incoordination but they were _moving._

Baekhyun began to move his own body with more enthusiasm, encouraging Chanyeol to do the same with a great big smile and a sparkle in his eyes.

Chanyeol began to introduce his hips to the movement. He swayed his head from side to side along with Baekhyun’s, his eyes shining into Baekhyun’s with a happy glimmer. He was beginning to enjoy himself.

_Can you tell me why?_

Chanyeol began to bounce on his feet, his own hands now moving Baekhyun’s own. Baekhyun began to bounce along with him, no longer interested in dancing sensually or gracefully, just interested in dancing with the other man who was genuinely smiling for the first time that evening.

_Tell me why?_

Then the taller man began to fling his head from side to side, his unruly hair flopping infront of his doe eyes as he did so. Baekhyun cried with glee as he began to do the same, introducing flailing arms to the mix, waving his hands at his sides, laughing with his full chest and Chanyeol chimed in with him.

_You and your false securities_

_Tear up my life_

_Condemning me_

Baekhyun felt a warm glow from his stomach to his frantically beating heart as he completely let loose in front of the other man. He felt his muscles disconnect entirely from his quiet mind as all he focused on was the laugh bubbling from his weightless chest and the glowing smile of the man in front of him.

_Name me an illness_

_Call me a sin_

_Never feel guilty_

_Never give in_

Unaware of his own actions, Baekhyun began to inch closer and closer to the other man until their bodies bumped into each other. Neither man cared or seemed to notice and Chanyeol automatically placed a hand on Baekhyun’s still-moving waist.

They continued to move along to the music but much less erratically. They swayed with ever third beat no longer hearing the lyrics or the roar of the crowd. All they knew was each other. Each other’s shining eyes. Each other’s glowing smiles.

_Tell me why._

With a momentary lapse of all judgement, Baekhyun’s eyes shifted down from Chanyeol’s eyes towards his lips. He watched as the other man’s smile fell and his mouth hung agape.

_Tell me why._

Either bravery, alcohol, or stupidity took over as Baekhyun moved closer and closer, refusing to meet the other man’s eyes.

He half expected him to bolt out or slap him for his boldness. But to Baekhyun’s surprise, the other man didn’t do any such thing. He began to inch closer too.

_You and me together._

_Fighting for our love._

Closer. Closer. Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s hot, quick breaths as they landed against his cheek. He daren’t look at the other man in case he stunned him like a baby deer. In case he saw regret in his beautiful brown eyes.

 _Can you tell me why_?

Their lips were millimetres away from touching and Baekhyun’s heart started to race at full speed. They were just about to finally touch when-

“NO. Stop.”

Chanyeol froze in place.

Baekhyun lifted his eyes to see the horror displayed on the other man’s face. His heart plummeted and he felt the sickness begin to rise.

Chanyeol was too ashamed to kiss him.

 _“Chanyeol.”_ He emphasised the other man’s name strongly, “it’s okay.”

“No,” the other man stated bluntly, “it’s not okay. It’s not okay. No, no, no.”  
  


He was starting to panic. Baekhyun stood and watched in horror as Chanyeol threw his hands up into his damp hair and began to pull. He wasn’t breathing at all, the still-pulsating music causing him to shout ever louder.

“No. NO. NO.”

He continued to yell as Baekhyun felt a lump rise in his throat in sadness for the other man.

“Chanyeol. Chanyeol,” his voiced wobbled with sadness, “please calm down. It’s okay. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

The other man began to sob. His whole body shaking with the force of his trapped emotions and the conflict he felt between what he wanted and what he felt he needed.

“Chanyeol, please calm down,” Baekhyun pleaded, “I can take you home.”

“No.” Chanyeol said with absolute finality.

He looked Baekhyun dead in the eyes, his devastation and anxiety plain to see.

Then he bolted.

“CHANYEOL!”

_Tell me why._

Baekhyun bolted through the crowds of people, uncaring of who he ran into on the way, desperate to catch the other man.

_Can you tell me why?_

He felt the panic rise in his chest when he reached the edge of the dancefloor and realised that Chanyeol was nowhere to be seen. He had lost him.

_Tell me why._

The other man was gone.

And Baekhyun was left alone feeling empty.

He hugged his arms tightly to his chest as he began to sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO it took more than a week but erm the world is ending so I forgive me. I would really appreciate and kudos or comments (but constructive ones, please...if they're rood I'll fite you) because it lets me know if you're enjoying this and helps me to write more! I do act upon feedback, as well because I'm writing as I go. 
> 
> Take care of yourselves and stay safe!
> 
> Next chapter coming soon (I hope :-D)


	3. Drop my Body on the steps of the FDA

With his spirits well and truly dampened, Baekhyun decided to scrap the night out and head back home.

He did briefly debate finding a random guy to go home with, purely so that he didn’t have to face Chanyeol. Honestly, he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the hurt and fear in his eyes for even another second. But Baekhyun knew more than most that trying to push away your problems through sexual favours never helped anyone. It would only make him feel worse.

It still wasn’t easy heading home, knowing that the man who had abandoned him at the bar would be there, sleeping on his bedroom floor of all places made his stomach tie up in knots.

But it had to be done; he couldn’t avoid his problems forever.

The flat was quiet when he arrived back. The air still and cold, noticeable dampness filtering through his lungs. He knew that he would have no chance of warming his hands up without central heating, so he decided to boil the kettle for a hot drink. Hopefully, it would warm him up even slightly.

A quick glance across the room was enough to show him that Chanyeol had already arrived back. His shoes were left spread out and abandoned from the door, as though he had kicked them off while still walking, and his jumper was left on the sofa.

That meant he was sleeping in Baekhyun’s bedroom.

Baekhyun in took a shaky breath. Maybe he was being stupid but the idea that he could walk into his room and find Chanyeol still wide awake made a lump form in his throat. He was too tired and humiliated to even consider confronting the situation.

The kettle began to quietly whistle as hot steam burst out of the spout and the hot condensation was scalding on Baekhyun’s frozen skin. He brewed his tea slowly. He drank even slower.

Eventually, he knew he had to head to bed. He was never someone who fared well on little rest, often suffering from worsened anxiety when his mind was tired. He would never be able to deal with Chanyeol with only a semi-functioning brain.

With a little back and forth up and down the hall, Baekhyun bit the bullet and twisted the doorknob with clammy hands.

The curtains weren’t drawn so moonlight shone into the darkroom, highlighting the crumpled lump bundled up on the floor.

Chanyeol was a sorry sight. He was wrapped in a thin blanket, still in his outdoor clothes. His knees were tucked up to his chest, his arms crossed tightly across his body. He looked so small and vulnerable just laying there and it made Baekhyun’s heart clench.

With a sorry sigh, Baekhyun tried to lightly shut the door behind him but the heavy wood wouldn’t allow him the privilege and the door banged into the frame. Every muscle in his body tensed as his eyes bore into the man on the floor. He prayed Chanyeol wouldn’t wake up.

Baekhyun continued to stare, stunned to complete stillness as Chanyeol stirred and opened his eyes slowly, looking straight into Baekhyun’s own.

His eyes were bloodshot and puffy on the underside. He looked desperately sad and Baekhyun couldn’t stand it.

That was his doing.

The room felt suffocating and he felt as though Chanyeol’s sadness and his own guilt were filling the room up to the rafters. He had to get out.

In what was far from his proudest moment, he scrambled for the door and out of the room, heading straight for Kyungsoo’s room.

“Soo,” he whisper shouted with a light tap on the wood, “Kyungsoo! Soo, open the door!”

The door was opened by a less-than-impressed Kyungsoo. He was wearing nothing but a tattered Wham! t-shirt that most probably belonged to Jongin and didn’t even bother to open his eyes (rubbing away the fatigued heaviness) before ushering Baekhyun inside.

Kyungsoo hooped back into bed, turning his small frame away from his friend but making sure to leave a space big enough for him.

Baekhyun undid his trousers and stepped out of them, climbing under the sheet in his socks and boxers. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, the nothingness of the cracking white paint barely registering as his mind swam with thoughts he couldn’t quell.

He thought of Chanyeol and his sad, desperate eyes in response to something so innocent and pure as a kiss. Something that should have made his stomach swim with butterflies and his heart throb with the emotion trying to burst out of it instead brought nothing but panic and utter despair.

It didn’t feel right but, at the same time, it made sense.

Baekhyun himself was familiar with the guilt that came along with wanting to give his heart to another man.

“Soo…” he breathed softly into the quiet room, unsure if his friend was still asleep.

An outdrawn moment of silence was followed by a tired hum from the other man.

“Do you…” Baekhyun was cut off by a sob getting caught in his throat, “do you think there’s something wrong with us?”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything for a moment or two. He kept his back to Baekhyun and the other man wondered if he had even heard the question. Or maybe he didn’t want to give an honest answer. The thought made Baekhyun’s heart race.

Before Baekhyun reached the state of panic, Kyungsoo turned around to face him, his eyes stony with more sincerity and seriousness than Baekhyun had ever seen from him.

He reached out to place a grounding palm on Baekhyun’s cheek, uncaring as hot salty tears fell on his warm skin.

“Listen to me now,” Kyungsoo was stern and unwavering as he stared into Baekhyun’s eyes, “there is nothing wrong with you. Or me. Do you understand?”

Baekhyun averted his gaze to stare at his trembling hands. He almost felt guilty for having such a preposterous thought in the first place.

“Whatever the bastards outside of these four walls may say about us, the government, the news, the tabloid press…Baek, it means shit to me! And it shouldn’t mean anything to you.”

Baekhyun remained silent as he let the words sink in. He knew that Kyungsoo was right, deep down. But after years of rejection and torment from the voices in his head, to be tossed aside by another man like he was nothing merely because he wasn’t the woman he was supposed to be well…it was hard to believe.

“You are worth more than you will ever understand. You are stronger than you will ever know. You’re a little bitch sometimes…”

Both men chuckled at the sudden lightness and Baekhyun felt the weight on his chest begin to lessen.

“…but your capacity to love isn’t a misgiving, Baekhyun. Okay?”

Baekhyun nodded, struggling against the grounding force of Kyungsoo’s palm.

“I have these days, too, you know?”

Kyungsoo moved his hand so that he could thread his fingers through Baekhyun’s knotted locks, his touch as gentle and soothing as his deep dulcet tones.

“There are days when I wake up, head to work and see those men lying there, dying. They have lost everything. Their families don’t want to see them. Their mothers won’t touch them. The world is repulsed by them.

“I think, ‘if we are doing nothing wrong, why are we being punished so harshly?’ I hear my mother’s voice, her cruel words about God’s wrath and, for a moment – just a moment – I believe it.”

Baekhyun feels bile rise in his throat and it takes all of his willpower to not force his friend to shut up. But he doesn’t. He focuses on his breath and Kyungsoo’s words.

“But then, I see these men’s partners. Young men, broken by pain but sick with love. They compose themselves outside the doors to the shelter and waltz in with bunches of beautiful flowers and joyful tales of the world outside, dreams of a future that will never come and I think, ‘maybe we are the lucky ones’…”

Baekhyun frowns in confusion.

“I mean, maybe we are lucky because we get to live love in a way that others never will. We have had to fight for our love so it means that much more. We know it’s real, we know it’s honest because why would we fight for it if it wasn’t?”

Kyungsoo stared into nothingness, his eyes deep with thoughts that Baekhyun would never be able to quite reach. Maybe he had a point. Maybe he was just making a mountain out of something very simple to help him feel better.

“Maybe I’m romanticising too much…” he backtracked, rolling over onto his back, closely followed by Baekhyun.

“No, no, I…I get it,” and Baekhyun did in a way, “it’s just hard, you know?”

Kyungsoo scoffed in good humour, “tell me about it.”

They sat in quiet silence again, neither of them quite sure of the time but no longer feeling tired enough to really care.

Baekhyun thought about the sad man in the room next door and wondered; could he ever be convinced that the love his heart desired was worth fighting for?

Some days, Baekhyun didn’t think it was but then he remembered his friends. The small ways in which Kyungsoo showed Jongin mattered to him by making sure that there was always a warm meal ready for him when he returned from work. Or the way Minseok would sit for hours listening to his boyfriend’s mindless ramblings with a smile in his eyes, despite never quite understanding. They knew it was worth it.

Kyungsoo rolled over onto his side and inspected Baekhyun’s troubled expression.

“Want to talk about it, Baek?”

Baekhyun let out a heavy sigh and turned over himself.

“I…Soo. What happened to Chanyeol?”

Kyungsoo looked confused. That wasn’t what he was expecting Baekhyun to ask that’s for sure.

“Did something happen between you two?”

That was a mountain of a question. Technically the answer was “no” but that was also the route of the problem: nothing happened which is why they can no longer look each other in the eyes. The reason why Baekhyun’s chest it tightening in anxiety and guilt.

“Not exactly, I…I think I upset him and I don’t understand why and…well,” he fiddled with his fingers, picking at the skin in stress, “I mean, I know you know so…”

Kyungsoo sighed sadly and pulled Baekhyun’s hands apart to stop him from hurting himself.

“I can’ tell you that, Baek,” he smiled softly, “you need to ask him that yourself.”

When Baekhyun woke up the next morning, feeling completely exhausted, he decided he would ask Chanyeol. He decided that the stress of broaching the situation was far less pressing than the prospect of living with a man who wouldn’t talk to him.

He headed to the front room, barely noticing the cold air with the way he sweated anxiously. Kyungsoo was standing over the hob reheating some rice concoction in a beaten up pan while Sehun sat at the table reading another tattered book as he often did.

Both men glanced at him with knowing eyes (obviously they had been talking about him) but neither said anything. Kyungsoo merely nodded his head towards the sofa where Chanyeol sat flicking between two tv channels vacantly.

Baekhyun knew what he had to do.

“Morning, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol’s headshot around in surprise, almost as though he wasn’t expecting anyone to speak to him at all.

He didn’t say anything. He forced a soulless smile before turning away from Baekhyun back to the crackling and spitting screen.

This was going to be harder than Baekhyun had anticipated.

He sat down next to the other man, legs pressed tightly together, feet uncomfortably flat on the floor so as to take us as little space as possible.

“Erm,” Baekhyun scratched behind his ear awkwardly, “it’s quiet this morning. Where is everyone?”

Chanyeol shrugged without moving an inch and Baekhyun started to wonder whether this conversation was already a dead end.

Then he quietly replied.

“Minseok and Jongdae went to the shops. Jongin is asleep in your bed.”

Ah, shit. Baekhyun had forgotten all about Jongin in the drama and hardly even considered where the other would sleep when he bombarded his bed.

There was nothing Baekhyun could think of to say to that. It seemed a bit pathetic to drag the small talk on when there were more pressing matters at hand.

Chanyeol clearly felt the same way.

“Look, Baekhyun,” he snapped, “is there something you want?”

Baekhyun was a little startled at the other man’s harsh words but they only confirmed why it was so important that they sorted their shit out.

“Yes, actually,” he snapped back to his own surprise.

There was a quiet shuffling in the direction of the kitchen area as Kyungsoo and Sehun made the very sensible decision to get the hell out of there.

“Why did you freak out yesterday?”

Baekhyun was done with beating around the bush. He needed to know!

Chanyeol stood up furiously and began to pace the room.

“I don’t need to answer that question…”

Baekhyun stood up and followed him, getting right up in his face. He really didn’t want to start a fight but he was hurting. He couldn’t help it.

“Yes, you fucking do, actually!”

Chanyeol dropped his head into his palms, rubbing his face in distress.

“Chanyeol, why are you pretending you aren’t gay?”

“Fuck you!”

“Well, clearly not!” Baekhyun snapped back, “you’re too fucking ashamed! But that’s okay! You carry on with your little crisis. Don’t worry about me. I’m just crushed that you abandoned me yesterday and I’m worried about you because…Chanyeol please talk to me.”  
  


His tone gradually softened as he spoke and when he had finished, his hot-headedness fizzing out as quickly as it came. Then he noticed Chanyeol’s sniffling.

“Oh, Chanyeol. I’m sorry…come here, silly

Chanyeol’s sobs became more erratic and breathless. Baekhyun rushed over to him and wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug. He shushed him and gently rubbed his back, his own small frame trembling from the force of Chanyeol’s own tremors.

“I’m s…” sniff, “s-sorry, Baekhyun. I…I didn’t mean to upset you…”

Baekhyun shushed him again, still clinging on tightly.

“No, I’m sorry,” he interrupted, “I shouldn’t have yelled I…”

He stepped back, still clutching Chanyeol’s arms, inspecting his blotchy face with concern.

“I…Chanyeol…please let me help you.”

The crying man didn’t say anything for a moment or two and Baekhyun felt like he wasn’t breathing anymore.

Then Chanyeol nodded and grabbed Baekhyun by the hand and dragged him through the house to their now-shared room. They passed a curious Sehun and Kyungsoo who were hiding in the hall, clearly pretending they weren’t listening.

Chanyeol shut the bedroom door behind them before throwing about his bedsheets, moving them from their place on the floor to reach his pillow.

Baekhyun stared on in wonder as he reached into his pillowcase and pulled out a small piece of paper. He barely glanced at it before thrusting it a Baekhyun.

Baekhyun took the paper in both hands. It was a polaroid picture. It was faded and clearly well-loved but the image was clear.

It showed two men, one of them obviously Chanyeol with unruly curly hair that reached his eyes, dressed in denim dungarees and bright red doc marten boots. Next to him was a young man dressed much less loudly in a plain white shirt and jeans. Both had their arms wrapped around each other and they looked immeasurably happy.

“I…” Chanyeol began in earnest, “I am gay…obviously.”

Baekhyun opted not to say anything.

“And that’s…that’s my boyfriend. Well, he was my…”

Baekhyun looked at the man in the picture more closely.

He was a little shorter than Chanyeol. He was a Caucasian man. His hair was soft, wispy and blonde. His eyes were bright blue and his cheeks adorned with a constellation of freckles. He had a kind face.

“What happened to him?”

Chanyeol breathed in a shaky breath.

“He died, Baekhyun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are all safe and well. Sorry for taking so long and then giving you nothing but an angsty cliff-hanger. Thank you for coming this far! Writing is hard lmao! I kept changing tense but I'll edit it at some point. Lockdown brain bleh


	4. I'm Not Queer. I am Human.

The atmosphere in the flat was palpable for the rest of the morning. Neither man was entirely sure how to address the elephant in the room, nor were they brave enough to broach the subject in its entirety. 

When Baekhyun had been abandoned at the bar, he was consumed by pettiness, entirely focused on the blow to his own ego. Not for one second did he consider the gravity behind the impulsive decisions Chanyeol had made that night, his motives for lying about his sexuality, his decision to run away. 

In his ignorance, Baekhyun had assumed that Chanyeol was dealing with the commonality that all gay men experience; conflict with his own self, fear of not being accepted, anxiety about the wider implications these things would have on his life. While Baekhyun would have never blamed him for this, the reality of the situation was far worse. 

Hot tears sprung into Baekhyun’s eyes and stung painfully. He willed them not to fall because he couldn’t be caught crying over the death of a man he didn’t know by the man who loved him but he just couldn’t help himself. 

He headed over to the murky kitchen window and faced the outside world so as not to draw attention to himself. People passed by on the street below, some heading in and out of the shop, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but wonder what their lives were like outside of his superficial view of them. He could make a guess but he would understand the full scope of their lives and the lives with which they overlapped, the things that made them laugh or cry, their losses nor their gains. And a feeling that was so overpowering to him right at that moment shook his entire world, but passers-by mere meters away would never feel it. 

Baekhyun couldn’t help but wonder how hard it must have been for Chanyeol to shoulder all of his grief and inner turmoil, hide it away from the world, only to uproot his entire life. 

Perhaps naively, Baekhyun didn’t think anyone would notice his crying. Until a hand fell onto his trembling shoulder and squeezed. 

“Not here,” Kyungsoo’s soft voice whispered in Baekhyun’s ear. 

Kyungsoo steered Baekhyun by the shoulder towards the door, nudged his shoes towards him, and ushered him outside. 

It was bitterly cold and the wind was biting, the wetness of Baekhyun’s cheeks making the sensation far worse.

The two didn’t say anything until they were seated near the back of a greasy spoon cafe, cradling hot cups of tea between their icy hands. 

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun sniffled, his nose running from the cold and from emotion, “I...it’s just so sad, Soo. He...he died.”

Kyungsoo’s face was stoic and his mouth was a pursed, flat line. Baekhyun knew that face. That was Kyungsoo’s way of putting up a front. Baekhyun wondered if his friend developed the ability to separate from situations emotionally through his work or whether it was a talent he developed in the life he had before Baekhyun knew him. 

“I know,” Kyungsoo took a long sip of hot tea. 

“How did he die, Soo?” 

Why he asked, he’ll never know. But he felt as though he needed to hear it. He needed to know so that he could give Chanyeol everything that he needed. 

“AIDs,” simple, straight to the point, no embellishments. That was Kyungsoo’s way. “It progressed so quickly that he had barely processed it before he died. Usual sad story. His family wouldn’t come to visit him, Chanyeol nursed him himself. He was at the shelter more than me, even. After George died, Chanyeol haunted the place like a ghost. Their flat had been reoccupied because they couldn’t keep up with the payments so he had nowhere to go. So, I asked him to move in with us.”   
  


Baekhyun didn’t really know how to respond to that. He fiddled anxiously with a napkin, tearing it to shreds as his palms became progressively more sweaty and gross. Kyungsoo retold the story with such nonchalance but they both knew that the other was sick to their stomach with the horrifying reality of the situation. They both knew that Chanyeol had no one to turn to. No one but them. 

“D-do…” Baekhyun wasn’t sure which question to ask first. His head was swarming with thoughts whizzing through his mind like wasps, “do you know Chanyeol well? What is he like?”

Maybe that was an odd question if Kyungsoo’s expression was anything to go by but he didn’t comment on it. 

“Erm,” he let out a puff of air and leant backwards in his plastic chair, “he’s nice. I mean, you don’t nurse someone 24/7 without having a heart of gold. Not many people would be that selfless.”

Baekhyun nodded. He had that impression of Chanyeol, already. 

“He’s really smart, too,” Kyungsoo continued, “I’d sit up with him sometimes while George was sleeping and chat to him. He studied classical music in a past life, I believe.”

They both knew what was meant by ‘a past life’. It was the life that they all had before they gambled with their homes, security, family, and friends in the hopes of finding a place in the world that would allow them to be themselves. Like legends reincarnated, they all had a past life. 

“He’s obsessed with astronomy. You’d find that dull as dishwater-”

“You don’t know that!” 

“Name all of the planets,” Kyungsoo shot back smugly. Baekhyun opened his mouth to shoot back until Kyungsoo said, “in order, Baek.”

“Fuck off,” he mumbled, caught. 

According to Kyungsoo, Chanyeol was an all-round good guy; he was funny, kind, he was flirtatious with the nurses so that he could snag extra biscuits and tea, and he enjoyed playing the piano for the residents. But, Kyungsoo divulged, when he thought no one could see him, it was obvious from the hurt in his eyes that he was devastated. He loved George boundlessly. And George was gone. 

This was all very well and Baekhyun didn’t doubt a shred of it, but he did have one question niggling at his mind. 

“But...if he’s so nice...why did he lie to me? He told me he wasn’t even gay. Then he tried to kiss me. Then he left me.”

Kyungsoo looked flummoxed. It did seem odd that an openly gay man would suddenly revert into the closet and be repulsed by his own feelings towards another man. 

“I can’t answer that but, Baek…” he paused for thought, “I think you should just...step back for a while. Don’t take it so personally. Grief makes people behave in weird ways. It wasn’t an affront, I can almost promise that.”

He was right, Baekhyun supposed. The workings of a bereaved mind were beyond Baekhyun’s understanding and he couldn’t explain away Chanyeol’s way of dealing with loss when he had never really experienced one.

“But I have a question for you, Baek…”

Baekhyun looked up, met Kyungsoo’s concerned eyes and felt his heart rate pick up. 

“Do you have feelings for Chanyeol?”

His automatic reaction was to scoff. He barely knew the man! How could he have feelings for him already beyond some sort of carnal desire that barely reached his head, let alone his heart? Then again, the sense of loss and emptiness Baekhyun felt after Chanyeol had left him hanging made him feel as though his heart knew something that his head was only just catching up to. 

“I...I don’t...I…”

Kyungsoo waved his hand dismissively, “you don’t have to answer that just...be kind to him okay?”

  
  
  
  


When they arrived back at the flat, everyone was back home and gathered in the living room chatting to a visitor. 

On the sofa next to Minseok with the others gathered around sat Junmyeon, Mrs Kim’s only son. He lived further into the city centre in some fancy new apartment complex but sometimes stopped by to take stock of the shop and make sure his mother’s residents were all in order. 

“Ah!” he cried, “Kyungsoo! Baekhyun! I almost missed you. I was just about to leave. How are you these days?”

Junmyeon was a strange man. He was unreservedly kind but his overzealous mannerisms and niche sense of humour could be off-putting. He also had a questionable sense of style with mismatched corduroy trousers and tartan blazer. It was part of his charm, Baekhyun supposed. 

He had passed by the flat to see if Chanyeol was settling in well. Technically, any new residents had to be approved by him before they were allowed to move in but Kyungsoo’s impressive negotiation skills (and scary disposition) had encouraged the landlord to make an exception. 

“So,” he addressed the room, “you’re all settling in together fine? No fights no problems?”

Everyone nodded apart from Chanyeol and Baekhyun who glanced inconspicuously at one another from across the room. What could have been awkward given the circumstances actually tickled them a little causing Baekhyun to let out an ugly snort. Of course, he was the one who had managed to cause all sorts of chaos on the first day. If Chanyeol’s wide, dazzling smile was anything to go by, he didn’t mind so much. 

No one noticed their small exchange. Least of all Sehun who was making sure that Junmyeon knew  _ he  _ was just fine, nodding in an over the top fashion, barely breaking eye-contact. 

“Very well then!” Junmyeon slapped his thighs and stood up, “it was lovely seeing you all. I’ll be back next week to sort a bed for Chanyeol.”

Kyungsoo nodded in approval and Baekhyun wondered how much he had been pestering the other man to get Chanyeol off the floor and into a proper bed. Probably a lot. 

The group stood up to see Junmyeon out the door and head about their days. 

“Bye everyone,” Junmyeon called on his way out of the door before adding a coy, “bye-bye, Sehun,” with a shy smile and a tiny wave. 

As the landlord vanished out of view, Sehun’s face glowed red hot, a blush flashing across his neck and up to his ears. 

The men in the room all stared at him in shock. Did Sehun like…

“Ahhh!” Jongin squealed, “Our Sehunnie has a crush!” 

A chorus of cheers erupted from everyone in the room (apart from Chanyeol who giggled at the scene before him) as Sehun’s older brothers piled onto him, ruffling his hair and cooing lovingly. 

  
  
  
  


It was pretty late in the evening when Baekhyun decided to go to sleep. He had a lot going through his mind and didn’t fancy lying down in the dark for 8 hours ruminating over everything. 

And if the fact that Chanyeol was still awake in bed made Baekhyun think that he felt exactly the same.

“What you doing?”

Baekhyun headed over to sit on the edge of his bed, undoing the buttons on his shirt ready to get changed. 

Chanyeol moved to sit up and face Baekhyun, a pair of goldfish bowl glasses dwarfing his face and making his huge eyes look tiny. He looked adorable in Baekhyun’s humble opinion. Not that that had any relevance. Just a passing thought.

“Just reading,” Chanyeol explained as he waved a tattered paperback around, “Sehun said I could borrow one of his books and this one is...well it’s interesting.”

His eyebrows furrowed in discomfort, as though he really wanted to enjoy the story but couldn’t bring himself to at all. Knowing his friend’s taste in literature, Baekhyun felt sympathetic. 

He removed his shirt before dropping on the floor next to where Chanyeol was sitting. He plucked the book out of the other man’s hands and snorted at the cover. 

_ Perfume.  _

“Fucking hell, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun was quite amused and spoke through heaves of laughter, “don’t read that! You’ll never sleep again.”

He took the book and threw it over his shoulder across the room. Chanyeol visibly relaxed. 

“The thing about Sehun,” Baekhyun explained in seriousness with an arm over Chanyeol’s shoulder, “is that he’s just been dumped and needs to conjure up a million reasons in his mind to hate the male species.”

Chanyeol nodded with a stern expression, taking Baekhyun’s explanation very seriously. 

“So he reads books about crazy men sniffing dead women? That’s weird…” Chanyeol looked nauseated at the thought and rightly so. Just because Sehun was intelligent and well-read didn’t mean that he had to subject everyone else to his literary snobbery. 

“Er. Yeah, exactly that.” 

Both men grimaced in disgust before snorting with explosive laughter. Their cackles would have easily spread throughout the house had Baekhyun not clasped both of their mouths shut with his hands. 

Despite being unable to laugh, the joy in Chanyeol’s eyes was incredibly flattering and Baekhyun was hypnotised. There was a whole life trapped within those glistening orbs and Baekhyun felt an irresistible pull inside his chest. He wanted to explore that life for himself and he didn’t know why. 

Perhaps it was the vulnerable moment they had shared the night before. It was like being able to look through the window of a room you wish you could enter, a room full of life and energy and longing to be let inside. Baekhyun was staring into Chanyeol’s soul and he couldn’t tear himself away. He was captivated. 

Had he not been made aware of the fact that Chanyeol was staring back with equal intensity, he may have stayed staring for hours. 

Baekhyun flicked his eyes towards his lap and shuffled his hands awkwardly. There was no point in pretending that he wasn’t looking but he still felt exposed. 

“Can I ask you a question, Chanyeol?” 

Chanyeol tilted his head to the side curiously with a pout (once again, very adorable and terrible for Baekhyun’s health). 

“I...I’m not mad at you. I need you to know that but…” he needed to ask his question sensitively but he had no idea how. He never usually needed to tread carefully with his words because his friends knew his intentions were never ill. “Chanyeol...why did you lie to me about being gay?”

The second the words came out of Baekhyun’s mouth, he wished he could take them back. Chanyeol froze like a deer in the headlights, his eyes widening to an impossible degree before he began to tremble aggressively. Just as he had the night before. 

“Chanyeol! Oh God. Shit!” 

Baekhyun clambered across the bedsheets to get closer to the other man, chilled to the bone from his state of undress on such a cold night. 

Chanyeol’s breathing was picking up, rough and gritty breaths which he forced out in quick succession, unable to stop them. Unable to bring them under control. 

“Brea...bre...I can’t...I…”

He was panicking and if the fear in his eyes was anything to go by, he wasn’t calming down any time soon. 

“What do you need me to do, Chanyeol?” The other man just shook his head.

“Do you need water?” 

No.

“A bag to breathe in?” Not that Baekhyun had one.

No. 

“C-can…” Chanyeol struggled through the breaths, “can you hold me? Please?”

The question stunned Baekhyun slightly. He wasn’t expecting something so forward but, then again, it was hardly a flirtatious advance. Chanyeol needed comforting. 

Hesitating slightly, Baekhyun sat cross-legged in front of Chanyeol and wrapped his arms tightly around his torso. Chanyeol was taller than Baekhyun so he could only hug around his stomach. Unsure at first, he couldn’t decide where to put his head but opted to rest it on Chanyeol’s firm but rapidly moving chest.

“Breathe with me?” Chanyeol requested. 

It was an incredibly intimate thing, making sure that your breaths were audible enough to be heard. With every steady breath Baekhyun in took, Chanyeol would take in a shaky one. They repeated this process of sharing the same breathing rhythm until Chanyeol’s heaves had levelled out to soft breaths of air which brushed over Baekhyun’s hair. 

Despite the necessity of their position being removed, they didn’t make a move to separate. 

“My boyfriend used to do that for me,” Chanyeol’s deep voice vibrated throughout Baekhyun’s smaller frame and it was incredibly soothing. 

“George?” Baekhyun asked without moving his head. Maybe this conversation would be easier if they couldn’t see one another.

“How did you…? Well, yeah. George.”

A long silence passed between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Baekhyun was too focused on listening for the regular movement of Chanyeol’s lungs to notice. That’s why Chanyeol’s next statement took Baekhyun by surprise. 

“I lied for him, you know?” 

That was when Baekhyun raised his head to look at Chanyeol. Missing the contact, he took the other man’s hands into his own. They were slightly cool and Baekhyun couldn’t help but remember a story his mother told about people with cold hands having warm hearts. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, after he...died...I felt sickened by the idea of replacing him.”

Baekhyun supposed that made sense. You didn’t move on from the love of your life overnight. It was the ‘gay’ part that still had him perplexed. 

“It’s silly, really but...I decided I couldn’t live alone for the rest of my life but I could never dream of having feelings for another man so…”

“...so you decided not to be gay, anymore?” Baekhyun struggled to piece the story together in his mind, “You know that wouldn’t work, Cha-...”

“I know, I know, I know,” he insisted, “I didn’t know that before but I realise it now,” he removed a hand from Baekhyun’s own, “I realise now that there’s room in a person’s heart for more than one person.”

He took his hand and gently placed it on Baekhyun’s cheek, offering him a soft smile. Baekhyun felt the breath leave his body. 

“Of course,” Chanyeol continued amongst the buzzing in Baekhyun’s ears, “we’ve barely known each other for a day but...it was nice to feel something for someone again, you know?”

Baekhyun considered the confession for a second before asking, “am I a broken heart rebound, or something?” 

Chanyeol chuckled at the apparent absurdity of that question and squeezed the hand he still held in reassurance. 

“No, dumbo. You are a broken heart fixer. You made me feel something. And it scared me. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about today when you went out - I know you went out to gossip about me, by the way.”

That made Baekhyun feel oddly guilty but Chanyeol didn’t seem annoyed. The openness of Chanyeol made spending time with him very easy; it was obvious that he had no ulterior motives when his heart was so openly displayed even when he tried to hide it. 

“Anyway. I thought today: I don’t think George would mind if I kissed you. I think he would insist.”

“You think so?” Baekhyun wasn’t sure where this was going but the confusion in his mind was beginning to settle a little. 

The other man nodded and brought both hands to cradle Baekhyun’s face. 

“I know so. He wouldn’t want me to let my heart waste away and...well, I’m not saying I have fallen in love with you or anything I just...I just really want to fucking  _ kiss  _ you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun’s heart froze. Did this mean he was finally getting that kiss he could practically taste the night before? Before he lost his chance and was left with a chasm in his chest. 

As soon as the words fell from the other man’s mouth, the impatience he felt was utterly overwhelming. Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol by the neck of his nightshirt until their noses were almost touching. 

“Kiss me then, lover boy,” he ordered with hooded eyes and a devilish smirk, “what the hell are you waiting for?”

Not a second passed before warm lips crashed against warm lips. They collided with such force that Baekhyun felt his head fall backwards and back and back until he was lying prostrate on the ground staring up at the man above him. 

They kissed as though they were the other’s source of air, heads tilted to the side so naturally, it was as though they had rehearsed it.

They kissed with a passion that didn’t abate until Baekhyun had to draw away for breath. Upon opening his eyes, he was greeted with a beautiful view: Chanyeol’s unruly hair had fallen into his dark eyes which were drowned in desire for Baekhyun who suspected he looked much the same. 

“That was certainly worth the wait,” Baekhyun choked out with a satisfied smirk. 

“You’re telling me,” Chanyeol agreed before diving back in for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always come thru, eventually. Sorry for the delay :( with everything going on in the world rn I didn't feel like delving into some of the issues raised in this story but I'm back babyyyy. If you also came back, thank you. I really appreciate your patience.


	5. Closets are Health Hazards

If there was one thing that Baekhyun appreciated in life, it was certainty. 

After leading a life of uncertainty, of loss, of fear, the need for some level of structure was paramount to maintaining his sanity. Without it, he spiralled. He didn’t know whether he was coming or going and the anxiety of not being able to predict where his life would take him was all-consuming. 

Perhaps that was why he was such a habitual person. Maybe he went to the clubs of a night because at least he could seek comfort in the fact that they would always be there. Maybe he drank because drink would always be there. Maybe he slept with strange men because he couldn’t lose what he could never call his own. 

It was hard for him to pinpoint exactly where this need stemmed from. Perhaps it was the dregs of the loss of his family he felt that were clinging tightly onto him. Perhaps it was the loss of his first love and the need to never relinquish control of himself and his feelings like that again. 

It felt odd to him, then, that he didn’t seem to have that same desire to take control when it came to Chanyeol. 

While accepting the other man into his life romantically in a more casual sense than he would have liked was absolutely a risk - after all, Chanyeol was somewhat of a loose cannon in his current state and Baekhyun was more than aware of the fact that he could lose faith in a heartbeat and retreat into himself - Baekhyun didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all. 

They had been taking things incredibly slowly. There were by no means in a relationship and the thought of bringing that up felt like treading treacherous water. Anything they did was purely innocent; soft kisses when no one was looking, hand-holding as they chatted into the dark of night, no awareness of the outside world in their minds. 

But this was okay with Baekhyun. Accepting such uncertainty was so counterintuitive and contrary to his personality but he was willing to go along with it. He could do it for Chanyeol.

That didn’t mean he didn’t feel anxious, however. Baekhyun was obviously falling for Chanyeol. Slowly but surely. And he didn’t really know what that meant for him. 

A strong desire of Baekhyun’s had always been to find another person to share his life with. He had always been incredibly honest with himself about that fact. But what he hadn’t accounted for was the risk that was required to allow yourself to fall. 

A risk that he was about to take without any caution at all. 

  
  


These thoughts had been running through his mind in the quiet moments. When he was alone and the only sign of life around was himself, that’s when he began to delve. Delve into his memories, the decisions he had made to get to where he was and where he would go next. 

On yet another cold winter morning, he was sitting doing just that. Lost in his thoughts and on the brink of a self-reflective spiral when he was interrupted by Sehun finally waking up. 

“You’re up early,” Sehun said through a yawn, still wearing a nightshirt and ruffling his hair that was growing awry, “you okay?”

Baekhyun hummed in response, trying to sound as chipper as possible but not entirely sure how convincing he was. 

The younger man chose not to comment and instead drew two cigarettes from his shirt and lit them both before passing one to Baekhyun. They took a few appreciative drags in silence before Sehun spoke up again. 

“Is there something going on between you and Chanyeol hyung?”

There was no point in pretending, Baekhyun decided. After all, they lived in a very tiny space and it would end up being entirely impossible to hide from the others after a short while. The issue was what to tell Sehun exactly. 

“Erm,” Baekhyun uttered, fiddling with a loose thread on his trousers, “sort of. We’re just testing the waters for now.”

The younger man took another drag of his cigarette and nodded. 

“Why?”

Sehun shrugged and leant forward to stub out his fag end in the dirty ashtray resting on the coffee table before sitting back and resting a head on Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“No reason,” he muttered noncommittally, “I just wasn’t sure what was going on with him to be honest and...well...he was giving you the heart eyes the other day when Jun was here so…”

Baekhyun sat up to look at his friend in the eye in amused curiosity. 

“Jun,” he teased, “don’t you mean “Junmyeon hyung”? You little brat!”

He tugged on the other man’s ear in a playful way, cooing at his friend. 

“Has sehunnie got himself an older man?”

Sehun squealed and laughed while crying, “no, no, no! It’s not like that!”

Baekhyun let go of Sehun’s (now slightly red) ear but didn’t relent in making fun of him. 

“What is it then?”

“Nothing,” he replied bashfully, “well...it isn’t anything right now but…I saw him in the library a month ago maybe? And we were talking about this book…”

“Ugh,” Baekhyun fake gagged at his friend’s dullness and predictability. But he couldn’t stop his smile at seeing how  _ happy  _ Sehun looked.

“...It was this book of poems…’Howl and other poems’, I think…”

It was a given that he absolutely knew what book it was. Baekhyun knew that when you had feelings for someone, no matter how small, you remembered things like that. He knew for certain that Chanyeol’s favourite book was ‘Contact’ because it was the only item that wasn’t the clothing that he had brought with him. Apart from the picture of George, of course. Yeah. You remember these things when knowing things about a person becomes a priority. 

“...and he said that Howl is his favourite which I told him was quite ironic because he is the epitome of normality and the quintessential modern life and he said...erm… 'you would be surprised what isn’t normal about me’ and…”

“He’s a poof, you mean?”

Sehun didn’t satisfy Baekhyun by providing an answer. He knew that Baekhyun wasn’t that well-read and probably didn’t care and Baekhyun didn’t; he just wanted to hear about his friend’s new-found romance.

“...anyway, he asked me out for coffee and we talked for hours and hours and,” his face lit up with excitement as he met Baekhyun’s eyes, “he’s so intelligent, Baek! He’s so nice and his jokes are shit but I don’t  _ care. _ ”

He shifted his eyes over to the window where he mindlessly stared at the nothingness of the grey morning sky and stated plainly, “I really like him.”

Baekhyun admired his certainty. He admired that a man so young could be so sure of anything. 

“I’m really happy for you, Hunnie,” he replied with a genuine smile, “he sounds perfect for you.”

The lovely moment was ruined when the front door burst open to reveal a stunned and mildly dishevelled Jongdae. Baekhyun hadn’t noticed that he was missing from the flat that night and if Sehun’s face was anything to go by, neither had he. 

A whispered  _ ‘shit’ _ came from where he was standing and both men on the sofa whipped their heads around to an enraged Minseok standing in the doorway to the living room, still dressed in his clothes from the night before, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. 

“Get. Inside,” Minseok spat, so angry that even Baekhyun froze, “Now!”

It was unclear whether either man knew that they had witnesses but Sehun and Baekhyun opted to stay silent until the bedroom door shut. 

“What was that all about?” Sehun asked with worry etched all over his face. 

Baekhyun had no idea but it probably had something to do with Jongdae’s double life as some kind of political activist-come-attention seeker. Whatever it was, he decided not to worry and told Sehun to do the same. 

They still both decided to clear off to their own rooms in case the arguing couple needed some privacy or whatever. They didn’t want to still be around if shit hit the fan.

Quietly so as not to wake Chanyeol, Baekhyun crept back into his room only to find the other man already awake, folding some clothes and putting them away in a drawer Baekhyun had cleared for him. Sadly, he was still sans bed but he didn’t seem to mind.

Without saying a word, Baekhyun walked over to the other man and sat cross-legged on the floor before him. He gently placed a finger under Chanyeol’s chin and guided his head around so that he could place a short kiss on his lips. 

They both pulled away with smiles. It had become a habit, greeting one another with a kiss. Only in the confines of their bedroom so far but that only made the intimate moments feel more special. 

“How are you?” Baekhyun asked. And the fact that he cared so much about the answer was a testament to how much his relationship with Chanyeol had grown since their first meeting. 

“I’m okay,” he said as he continued to fold, “who just walked in the house? I thought we were all here last night…”

“Ah. That was Jondgae,” Baekhyun replied dejectedly, “he was probably up to no good…”

The other man twisted his face in thought, “is...is Jongdae a drug dealer?”

This elicited a dramatic sigh from Baekhyun who, without regard for the clothes Chanyeol was trying to organise, lay down to rest his head in Chanyeol’s lap, allowing him to brush his fingers through his hair. Another thing Baekhyun knew he could easily get used to. 

“He isn't’, no,” Baekhyun explained, “he is mostly just a troublemaker but he doesn’t deal drugs…”

Unsure how to explain exactly what Jongdae did when he vanished for days on end and returned bedraggled, potentially with a warrant out for his arrest or a bloody nose, Baekhyun paused for thought. He focused on the fingers in his hair and grabbed onto Chanyeol’s free hand.

“I guess you could say he’s an activist...maybe. I suppose we all are in our own small ways like Sehun with his books But he’s more on the militant side. He’s more than pink triangles and pride marches...a lot more…”

Chanyeol hummed in understanding, “is that safe? I mean...I don’t even do the pride march stuff…”

He seemed a little guilty about that. Baekhyun flipped over onto his back so that he could look Chanyeol in the face.

“You’ve never been to a march?” He didn’t intend to sound judgemental. He just wanted to build a picture of Chanyeol in his mind. After the incident at the club and finding out about George, Baekhyun really didn’t want to ask any personal questions but that didn’t mean he cared any less. 

Chanyeol shook his head, “never. I have always been too scared.”

“Even with George?”

Chanyeol nodded, “we didn’t do that sort of thing...I only came out a few months before he died, you know...that’s why...my parents...I…”

Baekhyun had heard enough and it seemed that Chanyeol had said enough if the way he froze in his tell-tale way that Baekhyun had come to recognise was anything to go by.

Instead of using words, Baekhyun moved to sit up again, holding Chanyeol’s face in his hands. He smiled at him and placed a delicate kiss on each cheek. He didn’t need to say anything for Chanyeol to know what he was thinking. 

You are okay now. You are safe now. You are safe here with me. 

Then a question entered Baekhyun’s mind. He thought back to that day at the club, before all of the drama started, and the conversation they had. 

“So...when you said you had never seen a lesbian before, you actually meant it?”

The other man groaned and dropped his face into his palms, shaking his head back and forth in embarrassment. Clearly not. 

This made Baekhyun very amused. He had assumed that this was a lie, too but…

“Oh, Chanyeol,” he teased through laughter, “we have a lot to teach you!”

  
  
  


After their somewhat revealing conversation, Baekhyun had made it his mission to introduce Chanyeol to his world. Well, part of it anyway.

“Where are we going, again?” Chanyeol asked as he wrapped a worn-out woollen scarf around himself. It was debatable whether the sorry scrap of fabric and his thin jacket would be enough to keep him warm but that was all he had. At least he had been able to borrow a pair of Sehun’s gloves.

“We are  _ going  _ to meet a lesbian,” was all Baekhyun offered as an answer before flitting out of the door and heading down the stairs. 

“Sure,” Chanyeol replied breathlessly as he tried to keep up, “you said that but what does that mean? Where are the les-”

He was cut off when they reached the shop floor and were met by a flurry of women heading for the newly restocked vegetable carts. They separated him from Baekhyun in their haste and Chanyeol had to peer over the shelves to spot the other man grabbing two small cartons of milk. 

Ignoring the crowds around him, as though he were used to it, Baekhyun headed over to Mrs Kim to pay for them and say a quick hello before charging out of the door. 

“How do you deal with that every day?” 

It was just something they all had to get used to. The Saturday morning rush was always pretty intense but the liveliness was somewhat welcome. It made their peculiar little home all the more unique. 

Baekhyun stabbed both of the milk cartons with straws before handing one over to Chanyeol and taking a long sip. Chanyeol wasn’t entirely sure why an adult man was drinking a carton of milk for breakfast but he drank it anyway, grateful that it definitely wouldn’t be rotten which was more than he could say for the milk upstairs. 

“In answer to your question,” Baekhyun said between obnoxiously loud slurps, “we’re going to a bookshop in town,”  _ slurp,  _ “my friend Taeyeon runs a drop-in there and,”  _ slurp,  _ “I help her out sometimes. Mostly because I’m bored.”

The bookshop in question was a small place called ‘Gay’s the Word’. Though it was tiny and seemingly just like any other independent book shop (apart from the obvious differences), it was incredibly welcoming. 

Never much of a reader, Baekhyun had no interest in the books but what he did have interest in was the warmth and welcoming atmosphere of the place. It was the one place in London where he could meet people like him, be unabashedly himself, without needing to be in the presence of drugs and alcohol. 

It was Taeyeon who had introduced him to the place. Of a weekend, she ran a drop-in clinic in one of the backrooms, specially organised for queer folk to come by and ask a medical professional questions without feeling uncomfortable or without fearing mistreatment. She usually ran the clinic with a doctor from the hospital, Seo Juhyun, who could also offer her expertise but when the hospital was understaffed, Baekhyun would be roped in to hand out leaflets and phone numbers. 

His help wasn’t required that day and when they arrived at the shop, the small brass bell ringing above the dented and battered old door frame alerting everyone to their arrival, there was no one in the front apart from Taeyeon and one of the shop workers, Yixing. 

They stood at the till (a small wooden table, technically. There was no room on the shop front for any such frivolities) chatting casually, each nestling a hot cup of tea. 

“Morning, my loves,” Baekhyun greeted, his voice chipper as it carried across the small space. 

The pair at the till raised their heads to greet him with smiles and the shop suddenly felt much warmer. He always found the place comforting and homely, the friendly faces always welcome in a world that didn’t always feel so friendly. 

“Hi, Baek! How are you?” Yixing asked in heavily accented English, placed his mug down and headed over to Baekhyun, wrapping him up in a tight hug. 

Yixing was a new addition to their extended family, having only moved to London from a small village in China maybe 6 months before but he was so deeply affectionate, so friendly, and kind that everyone felt as though they had known him for their whole lives. 

“I’m fine, Yixing,” he replied, leaning back from the hug to wave over to Taeyeon, “I didn’t expect to see you today! I thought Mark worked Saturdays.”

Yixing offered one of his dazzling smiles and headed back over to the till, dragging over a pile of yellowing books and beginning to sort them into organised piles. 

“I know!” he chuckled at something no one else was quite sure of, “he phoned this morning, said he had to deal with ‘something’ and asked me to come in. Lucky I wasn’t busy, hey?”

Such was his carefree and giving nature, Yixing didn’t seem to mind that he was working overtime because his boss was so fickle. Baekhyun couldn’t imagine ever being willing to bend to the whims of an employer like that but, then again, maybe that was why he had no job to speak of. 

“He is upstairs, though. With some other people doing fuck know what...” Taeyeon added as she mindlessly flicked through some leaflets on the till she was now leaning on, “if you want to see him, that is…”

Baekhyun shook his head. For reasons he was unsure of, he had never liked Mark. He always seemed like too much of a trouble maker, forever getting in fights, getting arrested and causing problems for everyone around him. Sort of like Jongdae, in many ways, except Baekhyun didn’t have any connection to Mark so he didn’t have to like him at all. 

“Anyway,” Yixing spoke up again as he carried some books over to the shelf marked  _ Gay Fiction  _ and began to rearrange the titles already resting there, “who’s the friend?”

They all turned to face Chanyeol. He was so completely in his own world, engrossed in the books littering the  _ Sex & Romance  _ section and hadn’t noticed that Yixing was talking about him, much to the amusement of the others. 

“Hey, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun called over to him, trying not to laugh out loud, “you looking for tips?”   
  


Chanyeol whipped his head around with a startled look on his face, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment of being caught. Not that any of the others cared what he had been looking at. After all, they were all in the same shop. They all knew the wacky wonders that resided within those four walls. 

Feeling a little bad for exposing Chanyeol like that, Baekhyun grabbed onto his hand and dragged him over to place a quick peck on his cheek. That absolutely made the blush worse but the embarrassed grimace was swapped for a bashful smile. 

“This,” Baekhyun squeezed Chanyeol’s hand in reassurance, “is my new roommate, Chanyeol.”

‘Roommates’ felt a sufficient enough description of what they were for the time being and the way Baekhyun felt Chanyeol’s hand relax in his own was an indicator that he felt the same way. There was no reason to share exactly what they had with anyone else just yet. They were content with keeping it between the two of them. 

“So,  _ you’re  _ the infamous roommate?” Taeyeon dropped the papers onto the till and crossed her arms in front of her chest, offering Chanyeol a searching stare. She raked her gaze up and down him with curiosity until Baekhyun cleared his throat and shook his head at her. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to make Chanyeol feel uncomfortable.

“I...infamous?” Chanyeol turned to Baekhyun with an awfully worried look. 

“She’s exaggerating,” Baekhyun offered in reassurance, “I have barely spoken to her for weeks…”

“And whose fault is that?” She snapped back, not having any of it. 

It was true that Baekhyun had been pretty...preoccupied since he last saw his friend at the cafe, distracted by a potential blossoming relationship and the usual job-searching on top of that, but he had still phoned Taeyeon at least once each week. He thought she was being a bit over-the-top. So he told her that and earned himself a tut. 

“Yeah, Baek,” Yixing said brightly, clearly not able to read the room, “you haven’t been here for ages! Is there nothing you need?”

In all of the time that Bakehyun had visited Gay’s the Word, he couldn’t recall ever buying  _ one  _ book for himself. He did buy the odd pin badge, as demonstrated by the numerous buttons dotted across the denim jacket he was sporting that day, but that was it.

“Oh, yeah!” He suddenly remembered the slip of paper that Sehun had handed to him on the way out the flat, “Sehunnie wants some books! And Chanyeol might have a browse, too. He likes books, right Yeol?”

The other man nodded shyly before tentatively heading over to a collection of biographies on a rickety table in the centre of the room. 

Abandoning the books he was arranging in a mess on the floor, Yixing jumped up and bounced over to take the list out of Baekhyun’s hands, immediately getting to work finding them all. 

“So, Byun,” Taeyeon said with a slight cutting tone, “what was so important that you had to abandon your best friend for weeks on end?”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes at her unfathomable neediness. For a woman who lived with three other women, he would have assumed that she would never be lonely or in desperate need of attention. Apparently he was mistaken. 

“You’re just not that fun to be around…”

“And you’re a bag of shit. What’s new there?”

Though he wasn’t really offended, Baekhyun pouted anyway and moved around to sit at the wooden stool behind the till, flopping his body over the surface, careful not to knock a pile of leaflets onto the floor. 

Out of curiosity, he pulled out one leaflet on the pile.

It was a self-printed leaflet about the AIDs crisis. It was short and to the point with only two words on a plain black backing:

_ Silence = Death _

“Get’s the message across, I suppose…”

Taeyeon nodded glumly, “it makes a statement. That’s certainly true. The government has started running TV adverts and issuing leaflets but...it needs to come from people like us, you know? We need to get the message out in the places where these men actually go…”

She had a good point. Baekhyun was somewhat aware of the government campaign against the deadly virus but he also knew that the government didn’t actually care about the gay people dying every day. Margaret Thatcher was hell-bent on driving the problem underground: it’s gay men’s own fault. They chose the lifestyle, they face the consequences. 

If she would never have considered taking any action if she hadn’t been informed that breeders were also at risk, even if the disease was circulating around heroin addicts more so than good, nice, and upright people. Even people she loathed, she didn’t loathe as much as gay men. 

Well, at least that was what he had heard. The rumour mill couldn’t be trusted at the best of times, least of all in the middle of a crisis. People became panicked and scared and were so desperate for answers that they would cling onto any glimmer of hope. 

Without drawing too much attention to himself, Baekhyun looked over to Chanyeol who was flicking through some kind of photography collections while happily chatting to Yixing about something Baekhyun couldn’t quite make out. A sudden sadness washed over him as he thought about the sadness behind that smile. Perhaps he was exaggerating, Chanyeol was doing so much better these days and it wasn’t fair to him to undermine the value of his smile because of the things that had happened in his past. But Baekhyun couldn’t help it. 

He couldn't help the anger that rushed through him. The anger towards the world and how it had treated someone as kind as Chanyeol. Or anyone for that matter. No one deserved to die because their government wouldn’t make keeping them alive a priority. No one. 

In an inexplicable burst of outrage, he grabbed the pile of leaflets and threw them into some random box behind the till so that he didn’t have to look at them anymore. The thought of Chanyeol seeing them and having to face the reality of his own situation when he was finally smiling ate him up inside.

His friend clearly sensed his inner turmoil and grabbed onto his shaking hand, tightly squeezing it under the table, out of view. She had caught snippets of Chanyeol’s story during her and Baekhyun’s phone calls so could probably guess what was going through Baekhyun’s mind. 

Baekhyun was vaguely aware of Taeyeon calling Chanyeol over to speak to her. He was half listening to their friendly conversation. Something about Baekhyun being a pain to live with and Chanyeol adamantly defending said pain. At any other time, Baekhyun would have jumped at the opportunity to get involved and rip into his friend, throwing insults around left and right but wasn’t in the mood. 

Instead, he leaned up on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Chanyeol’s lips, needing to feel close to him in order to calm his nerves. The urge itself made nervous butterflies erupt in his stomach but the kiss itself forced the air back into his lungs. 

“What was that for?” Chanyeol was confused but wore a smile. He didn’t even seem to care that Baekhyun had kissed him in public, much to Baekhyun’s relief. 

“Nothing. I just wanted to kiss you. Is that a crime?”   
  


In all of his time knowing Chanyeol, Baekhyun didn’t think he’d seen the other man blush as deeply as he was in that moment. 

Chanyeol shook his head and in a surprisingly bold move, he leaned down to tentatively kiss Baekhyun right back. 

“You two are disgusting,” Taeyeon fake gagged but her smile crept through all the same.

The moment was shattered by the sounds of thundering footsteps charging down the stairs. Through the archway behind which the back rooms of the shop resided emerged three men; one being Mark, the other being someone Baekhyun didn’t recognise, and the other…

“Taemin?” Baekhyun was incredulous while Chanyeol and Taeyeon looked concerned, clearly picking up on the fear and agitation emanating from the men.

Just looking at Taemin alone made Baekhyun’s blood run cold. The other man was in the most unkempt state Baekhyun had ever witnessed. He was wearing a plain white shirt (unironed and untucked) and plain jeans, complete with black boots. His face was bare, no makeup in sight, and his hair unbrushed. If that wasn’t enough to make Baekhyun panic, the assuming knife in his hand was. 

Baekhyun grabbed onto Chanyeol and Taeyeon out of pure instinct and pushed them both behind him, shielding him with his arms. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Taemin?” He questioned in a high-pitched voice, his throat strangled by the panic rising within him, “calm the fuck down.”

Taemin ran a hand through his hair in agitation and dropped the knife on the till with an aggravated groan. 

“Baekhyun just shut the fuck up will you?”

“Ya!” Taeyeon screamed, her accent thickening in her rage, “don’t you dare talk to him like that. What are you? Insane?!”

The man whom Baekhyun didn’t recognise stepped forward and shoved Baekhyun to the side. The furious look in his eyes activated Baekhyun’s fight or flight and he started to measure him up, debating if he could take him on.

“Taemin just fucking  _ ask  _ him already,” he growled in a gruff voice. 

Yixing ran over at that moment to try and alleviate the sudden outburst on the shop floor but to no avail. If his stoic expression was anything to go by, he knew the men were upstairs and had suspected that things would kick-off.

“I’m fucking  _ trying, _ ” Taemin bellowed, utterly out of character for him, “Baekhyun. Do you have any idea where Jongdae is?”

Baekhyun froze. 

“How do you know Jongdae? What have you done to him? Where is he?!”

It was Mark who spoke up next, his voice a little calmer but no less petrifying, “listen, dear. Your little friend has gone missing and we’re trying to help him so if you could just  _ tell  _ us where you saw him last, we’ll let you go.”

Sensing Baekhyun’s annoyance, Chanyeol spoke for him, “you saw him this morning didn’t you, Baek? You said he-” 

“No! Chanyeol, stop! How are we supposed to trust them, huh?” He was starting to feel slightly hysterical.  _ What the fuck was happening? _

It was Taemin who completely snapped first. He got all up in Baekhyun’s face and was practically breathing down his neck. Baekhyun had always seen Taemin as this elegant man who only wanted to party, do drugs and have sex with strange men. Never like this. Never this domineering character who could stop Baekhyun’s heart from beating in time just through the force of a withering glare. It just proved how little Baekhyun actually knew about him and his ever mysterious self.

“Look, Baek,” he spat, “I’m not fucking around with you right now. Jongdae is in big trouble and we  _ need  _ to find him. You might not trust us but who do you think Jongdae is with when he goes out huh? Do you think he’s some kind of rogue vigilante? Huh!? You think he does all that shit he does on his  _ own?! _ ” He shot out a dry laugh that made Baekhyun’s hairs stand on end, “he’s with  _ us.  _ You didn’t know we knew him for our good. We can't every Tom, Dick, and Harry knowing who we are and what we do. We’re not a skiffle band, Baek. And Jongdae is no saint, either. This shit is serious.  __ So, you decide. You help us, or Jongdae suffers. Your call.”

He took a step back without breaking eye contact. Baekhyun held the other man’s gaze, determined to put on a face and prove that he wasn’t terrified when his whole body was trembling. 

He was completely unsure of what to do. While he had never previously had a reason not to trust Taemin, he hadn’t known he was in some kind of  _ gang  _ then, either. But then again, he was in the same gang as Jongdae whom Baekhyun would trust with his life. 

So torn that he felt tears welling in his eyes, Baekhyun felt like screaming. 

Then he felt a hand rest against the small of his back. The hand drew concentric circles over the fabric of Baekhyun’s shirt and immediately grounded him, bringing him back to earth. Chanyeol was there. Whatever happened, Chanyeol was there. For now, he had Chanyeol to keep him sane. 

“Fine,” he breathed out with a revealing tremor, “we’ll help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not so sure about this update...5000+ words as well >.< As the plot thickens, I also seem to get thicker, so this gets harder and harder to write lol. If you want to hear me complain about this fact incessantly or see when I post an update, you can follow me on twitter @yeoloutof10...Hope everyone is okay!


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